Aiden and the Beast
by emodinosaurX3
Summary: Aiden always thought himself a normal kid, until his father brought news of him being a wizard, and would be attending the British school of magic, Hogwarts. There he will discover secrets—about the school, about his family, and even about himself.
1. Chapter 1

**_Author's Note_**_:_ The main character of this story, Aiden Cooper, was inspired by the character I made for BrutieBoot's Harry Potter fanfiction, _Lorcan and Lysander_, who, incidentally, is also named Aiden Cooper. Their backgrounds are very much the same (with few major differences), but I thought his character was so interesting that I really wanted to create a story for him. Thank you to Brutie for letting me use Aiden in a different story (even though I made him, however I gave up all ownership of him when I allowed her to use him in her story). _By the way, go read _Lorcan and Lysander_! It's seriously so good! I "aww" at every freakin' chapter! xD_ Anyway, enjoy, and thanks for reading! Reviews are much appreciated. (:

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**CHAPTER 1**

I've been seeing that blonde-haired man since the beginning of the summer, but I never thought much of it because I came to the conclusion that he was probably just an illusion, a mere trick played by my mind. He's tall and pale, as if he's never seen the sun before, though he stands right underneath its blazing rays when he's around me, and such a pointed face, like an elf. His eyes are narrowed and grey, and his lips are normally pursed into a thin line, the edges threatening to lift upward, as if he longed to smile at me. He's always dressed in black, even though it's well over ninety degrees in the afternoon, and when his visit is over, he'll disappear.

I guess this is really why I think he doesn't exist; because of his vanishing getaways. It's _impossible_ to merely vanish into midair, therefore, the man is not real. Sometimes I wonder if the man is a ghost, since he never talks or interacts with me. Other times I believe he's the older version of me, since he does look somewhat like me. Well, we've got the same eyes, at least.

So as I'm walking home from the local park, enjoying one of my last days of summer by laying in the grass and reading a book (and also, admittedly, searching for field mice to bring home), I see the man again, only this time he finally did smile, a depressing, pitiful smile. I was taken aback by his change of expression and wondered what could have possessed him to smile in such a sad way. Was something bad about to happen to me (or us, if he really was my future self), or would this be the last time he'd see me, in other words, a goodbye smile? I deep down hoped it would be the latter, as the man appearing everywhere I was beginning to really annoy me.

Rolling my eyes, I turn away and continue to walk down the road, arriving at my neighborhood street. Curious, I look back and notice he's gone, hopefully for forever.

I approach a small one-story cottage-type of home, the shingles on the outside wall a fading coral, the windows bearing flower boxes and the lawn trimmed nicely. The mailbox is painted delicately with frilly designs and bluebirds soaring. My house is an absolute embarrassment. It's times like these that I'm relieved I don't have a lot of friends, if any at all. I've never brought a friend home from school, nor would I really want to, considering just the _outside_ of my house.

And the inside is just as bad. There are china cabinets and striped floral wallpaper in every room, even mine. The carpet is a tan shag, and there are china plates of pink roses mounted on the walls. Ancient vases (pronounced with a short A, so I've been told, but to me that's too much effort) litter the mantel above the fireplace, and there is an abundance of plants and flowers all over the place, providing a scent that I've long gotten over and now detest.

I guess this is all because my grandmother lives with me. She's always been into flowers (and pink, in case you hadn't noticed). I've always lived with her. Mum moved back in with her long before I was born, and when I arrived, she knew it was only best to stay in a stable house for me, because she couldn't take care of me on her own.

I suppose I do love my grandmother, but I absolutely _despise_ living with her. I've received too much motherly love because of her. After all, I already have my own mum—the last thing I wanted was a _second_ one. With Grandmother Eracebeth, I've got an entire new set of rules. I'm lucky enough to get out of the house. The only good thing about her is her cooking, but even that's not entirely good. I mean, what kind of grandmother doesn't know how to _cook_? And since my mother is an absolute horror in the kitchen, all of the cooking is left to my grandmother.

It's times like this where I wished I had a father. My father would be able to cook, play sports with me, teach me to build things … all of the necessities a father would do. He'd read the newspaper while drinking a mug of coffee every Sunday morning, and then afterwards offer to take me out to the park where we'd play a bit of football. He'd be an excellent football player; very precise with his feet, and very speedy. And then, when I'd come of age, he'd teach me to drive, and he'd be proud to present me with my very own automobile of my own when I'd finally get my license.

But these are all just fantasies that I've had ever since I was a kid. My father's been dead for as long as I can remember. I've never met him. Mum told me he'd died before I was even born when I was young, and it was the hardest thing I could ever take in. In fact, even today, I'm not even over it. I've been depressed and angry and have been to numerous schools because of my behavior, even as a tike. If I had a father, he'd be here for me to go through everything I needed to go through growing up into a man. Every child needs their mother, but every boy needs their father. And, I'll admit, I've caused a lot of trouble for both my mum and my grandmother, but the loss of my father has just been too great. It's no excuse, I know, because I'm no moron, but sometimes I feel that it could be.

I approach the white-painted door and twisted the knob, the aroma of flowers and plants hitting me like a tidal wave. I gag briefly, but I'm also used to the scent that it doesn't faze me as much as it used to. I travel through the family room (consumed in floral décor) and reach the archway that opens to the kitchen. But as I arrive at the archway, I stop, and so does my heart.

The blonde man is sitting at the dining table across from my mum.

Does she know he's there, I wonder, but my question is soon answered when my mum takes a deep breath and gazes right into the man's eyes, and I know she sees him. Golden hair that is pulled over to one shoulder in a single plait with fringes framing her heart-shaped face, Mum is absolutely beautiful, and I wonder why she never comes home with a date. Not that I want her to, because imaging my mother dating is just downright awkward, but I don't doubt that many men eye her with such attraction. Her eyes are wide and blue, like dark sapphire gems, and her lips are full and red, even without lipstick. She has a thin figure, and she's perhaps a couple inches shorter than I am, and I'm nearly six foot.

"What the bloody hell is _he_ doing here?" I blurt, staring at the both of them with a crazed expression. My eyebrows knit together in confusion and anger.

"Aiden, sweetheart," she begins as she exhales her held breath. "There's something I need to tell you—that _we_"—she looks back at the man before returning her gaze on me—"need to tell you."

"It would probably be best if you sat down. This could be a lot to take in," the man says, motioning to the spare chair that's placed beside him.

"I'm used to dealing with hard situations, so I'll stay here, thanks," I sneer, crossing my arms over my chest. I briefly look at my mother, who is narrowing her eyes at me, but is pursing her lips, not uttering a word. Usually by now she would have scolded me for being so rude, but she says nothing. My eyebrows narrow even further. This must be an extremely big deal, probably bigger than I think it is. I'm debating whether I should take the man's offer and sit down, afraid the impact will be too great. I don't really want to hear the news; I'm already broken inside because of my father's inexistence in my life.

"Very well." The man nods. "Aiden, I am your father."

What?

What did he just say?

_What did _he_ just _say_?_

Every system in my body has completely shut down and stopped functioning as my stomach feels as if it is being crushed by a boulder. I can feel bile scratch at the back of my throat, and I honestly don't even care if I throw up in front of them. I'm too stunned to be embarrassed.

"My name is Draco Malfoy, Aiden," he continues. "I'm terribly sorry about the traumatic impact I must have caused, not being there in your life."

"I-I don't understand," I finally sputter. "My father is dead!"

"Aiden, I regret nothing more than keeping this from you, my darling son, but you wouldn't have understood, especially after thinking your father was dead," Mum begins, her eyes glittering with a wet film.

"Understand that my father was actually alive and that you hid him from me my entire life?" I snap, my anger reaching its boiling point. Now it's going to be hard to keep my temper down, and with the way things are going, it doesn't look like I'm going to be remotely happy for a while.

"You wouldn't have understood the _reason_," Draco corrects, eyeing my mother sympathetically for no more than a second. I glare.

"Well what could be a bloody good reason to keep my _father_ out of my life? Are you a loser? Do you do drugs, or do you drink? Do you sleep around with other women? What? Were you afraid of influencing my life poorly? I hate to break it to you, but I'm not that great of a person either. I've been to so many schools, I've lost count, because of my behavior. So _what_ could be your reason to keeping yourself out of my life?"

Draco gulps and closes his eyes, sighing heavily. My mother has tears streaming down her face. Had I struck a nerve? Had I guessed correctly? My blood curdled, and my stomach twisted, as if someone were wringing it dry.

"You are a good person, Aiden," Draco says softly. "You've just made a lot of the wrong decisions. Just as I have. You're a very bright boy for guessing correctly."

I gulp, fearing what _exactly_ I guessed correctly, but Draco answers my mental question anyway.

"I am a loser. I am a married man with a seventeen-year-old son, yet I chose to cheat on her and unexpectedly created another family. Aiden, I love you because you are my son, but I—"

His voice cuts off there because he just doesn't know what more to say. Or, rather, he _does_ know what to say, but he doesn't know _how_ to say it. It doesn't matter, though, because I already know what he wants to say.

"I was an accident?" I ask, glancing at my mother. Her lower lip quivers and she looks away, ashamed. I could feel my jaw slowly dropping as her looking away from me stings my heart. My gaze drifts back towards Draco, his grey eyes filled with shame. So that what was why he had the same eyes as me, because he was my father. Not because he was an older version of me, but because he was my father.

I'm not sure how to handle this. All my life I only wished for a father, and here he was, but hearing that I was a child of an affair, a mistake, an unwanted baby, made all of those wants vanish into thin air. I didn't care for Draco to be my father. It was obvious he had his other family, his _real_ family.

I don't know what to say to them now. My hands fall to my side and shake, clenching into fists. I long to hit something, to drive my knuckles into Grandmother's walls, but I know she'll fall over dead if something were to happen to her precious floral wallpaper.

"I know this is difficult to hear, son, and what I did was wrong. I shouldn't have stayed out of your life. I should have told my wife about having another son, but I didn't. I was afraid of what would become of our marriage, and I still am. I love her very much—"

"But you don't love _my_ mother," I snarl, interrupting him. I don't want to hear about his other family. I could care less. I'm disgusted that the father I've always wanted could do something like this to me. I hate him, I hate his family, and I hate my mother for keeping this from me. Hell, Grandmother Eracebeth probably knew about this too!

"Not in the same manner, no," Draco says, his voice hesitant. I roll my eyes and turn on my heel. I've had enough. I no longer want to look at the both of them.

"Wait—Aiden!" Mum calls, her chair scraping against the tile floor. I ignore her and continue walking away from them.

Suddenly, a hand grasps my wrist and I turn my head, startled to see Draco looming over me, his tall athletic figure surprisingly intimidating. He's not that much taller than me, perhaps a couple or so inches taller. He looks down at me, his eyes narrowed, his pointed face coated with genuine concern.

"There's more, Aiden," he says softly. _More? _ What _more_ can there possibly be? The situation was already at its worst. I couldn't possibly find any more room for _more_ news.

"What _more_ could there be?" I ask, scoffing. Draco digs into the inside pocket of his coat (which I still don't understand why he's wearing it, since we're still in the middle of summer) and pulls out a crinkled envelope. The red seal has been broken, its contents already been read. On front is a very elegant script, stating my name and address. I narrow my eyes.

"That's for me, isn't it? Hand it over," I demand, extending an arm. Draco narrows his eyes and pulls it away from my reach.

"This isn't your average letter, Aiden. You must understand the vitality of it, of its significance, and why I couldn't give it to you when it first came."

"You went through my mailbox? What the bloody hell is wrong with you, you stalker?" I exclaim.

"I haven't been stalking you. I've been watching over you, watching you grow and become the young man you are today. I'm surprised this summer is the first time you really notice my existence."

"You've been watching me my entire life?" This both makes me feel excited, yet crept out, but either way it makes my stomach churn. All the time I thought I had no father in my life, in actuality there was one looking after me, watching me grow, watching me become what I am.

He nods, and then holds up the letter, and I realize we've briefly drifted away from it.

"This letter, Aiden, is an acceptance letter to a school here in England," he says, running a thumb over the broken seal. My eyebrows knit together. I look back at my mother, who's standing at the archway, watching us. An acceptance letter? To what school? What school could possibly want a reject like me anyway?

"What school?"

"It's a private school—very private," he says. "It arrived five years ago, but I couldn't let you have it because I didn't want you to go. I didn't want you to run into my other son."

My glare returns. How could this man be so selfish? And he was supposed to be my _father_? I feel as if my dreams have been mocked, that this man is really sent to make fun of me and to act like the worst father in the entire world, because that's what he's already become, and I've only been talking to him for thirty minutes.

"But I want you to go to this school now, because now I feel you are responsible to keep this secret. Scorpius doesn't know about my affair, and that you even exist. Astoria, on the other hand, knows about Celeste—about your mother—however she has no recollection of your existence. However, going to this school introduces a new life, a new person inside of you. Going to this school shows who you really are."

I'm still glaring and I'm too busy wondering what could be so life-changing going to this private school to question what in the bloody hell kind of name is _Scorpius_. Honestly, if my mother named me something similar to an arthropod, I definitely would not have been pleased.

"What's the school?" I finally ask. Draco hands me the envelope and I pull out its contents. Two pieces of parchment come out of the envelope, one of them the acceptance letter, the other a list of items.

I read the first sentence and am taken aback.

_Dear Mr. Cooper,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_.

"Is this some kind of _joke_?" I blurt, staring at Draco with confusion, but he shakes his head, his expression still firm, not a crack of a smile anywhere on his lips. I look back down at the letter, rereading the first sentence and then continuing the letter.

_Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_ Sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress_

"Wh-what does this mean?" I ask. "_Witchcraft and Wizardry?_ This truly has nothing to do with magic and sorcerers and all that rubbish, right?"

Draco closes his eyes and shakes his head. 'This was the other thing that I truly regret keeping from you as well," he says. "What that letter says is that you've been accepted to a school of magic, and to learn how to use it." His voice dropped into a low tone. "That letter, Aiden Xavier Cooper, means that _you_ are a _wizard_."


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

The beast is long and scarlet, a most magnificent structure I've ever seen. Draco is beside me, ushering me away from the wall we've just literally walked through. I push my trolley in the directions he points me as he follows. I've got a large trunk filled with my clothes (including my Hogwarts robes and uniform), my not-so-average school supplies (including a cauldron, a stack of odd textbooks about casting spells and brewing potions, and quills and ink—they don't use pens and pencils there), and even my brand new wand, which, I admit, is quite excellent. It's long and sleek, made with one strand of a unicorn tail and birch wood. There's even an intricate design along the handle that resembles more of a serpent than anything. Draco's already warned me about being extra careful with my wand—it's my most prized possession in the wizarding world, and, without it, I'm not able to do magic.

Along with my trunk is a cage, a big, fat, brown toad sitting contently inside, grunting. I've decided to call him Bursty because every time his esophagus bloats, he looks as if he's about to burst. I've never had a pet before, and when Draco said I'd need an animal to accompany me on my school journey, I couldn't help but get a tiny bit excited. It was a hard decision to make between an owl, a cat, and a toad, but I finally settled on Bursty, who looked rather interesting. I can't wait to conjure a tank and water for him when I get to school with my new wand.

Also, while we were in the magic village, Diagon Alley, Draco bought me my very own broomstick—the _greatest_ broomstick on the market, apparently. The Sunstorm 6000, it's called, and it's slim and red with tinges of orange. I was amazed with all of the things Draco was buying me, especially the broomstick, but apparently he's so filthy rich that it didn't even hurt him to buy all of my school supplies, all in prime condition and untouched. Must be nice for that Scorpius to have a wealthy father at hand. I wouldn't put it past him to be a spoiled brat.

"Now, you're going to take your luggage over there where they're loading everyone's things," Draco says, pointing ahead. "You'll board the train, then, and it'll be a while before you arrive at the school. Once you're there, you will ride the boats with the first years, however you will be arriving in your sixth year, as you are sixteen years old. You must understand that this is highly unusual for Hogwarts to accept a student so late in their years. As a matter of fact, I'm not so sure it's ever been done in Hogwarts history."

"And it's all because you didn't want me running into your _other kid_," I sneer, rolling my eyes. I know I should be more appreciative because of all of the new things Draco's bought for me with money out of his pocket, but the fact that he deliberately stayed out of my life because I wasn't the child he actually wanted still takes over my emotions and makes me angry again. I fail to understand what kind of father does that to his son, wanted or not.

Draco frowns, but shame crosses his face again. He sighs heavily and places a hand on my shoulder.

"I don't expect you to ever forgive me, Aiden, but I plead that you do. It would mean the world to me, your forgiveness. It's a lot to ask, but you must know that I've always loved you, and that I'm amazed at the striking young man you've become. Sure, your act could be cleaned up a bit, but I take full responsibility for your miseries. I killed me inside to see you so solemn so often."

I look away from him, glaring stubbornly out at the distance. My eyes inadvertently catch the sight of a tall blonde boy, my ages, so it seems, chatting with a tall darker-skinned boy, again, my age. My gut twists when I see the clear resemblances between the blonde boy and Draco. I gulp and struggle to look away, but I can't help but feel utter hatred for him. I wish him dead, I wish him out of existence, but only because he's Draco's first son. I wish this because I know _I'm_ the other son, not he.

"Is that him?" I say softly through my teeth, my upper lip curling into another sneer. Draco tears his gaze from me to the blonde boy. "Is that your son?"

"Yes," Draco says firmly with a nod. "However, he's only one of them. _You_ are my son too."

"Yet you are too ashamed of me to even mention my existence to your family. Leave Mum and I broken while _you_ play house with your lovely wife and son sure sounds fair."

"Look." Draco places both hands on my shoulders, gripping them tightly and looking into my eyes, his grey eyes mirroring my narrowed ones. "I made a mistake, and I'm paying for them inside. There's no reason they need to pay for my mistakes as well. I love you and your mother, you must realize that."

I sigh, but continue to glare at him. Draco sighs as well and removes his hands from me.

"Listen. Now when you arrive at the castle, you are going to be Sorted into a House. Professor McGonagall is going to explain all about that when you arrive. You may feel a little out of place because you will be going through the process an eleven-year-old wizard normally goes through, but you will continue with sixth year courses. I've arranged extra study time with your teachers so you can learn the basics of wielding magic." He smiled a small smile before pulling me into a hug. I was both shocked and disgusted with this motion, but I didn't struggle to get out of his embrace. As he let go of me, he patted my back. "Well, I must see Scorpius off. You will do well, Aiden, I know you will. You are an excellent boy and are quite clever. Your knowledge of magic will soon rise to a modern sixth year's in no time.

"And, Aiden?" he asks as he begins to back away. "Don't tell anyone about me or Scorpius. No one knows you are related to me, other than the staff, but they are sworn to secrecy, so they won't be a problem. Rumors spread fast in that castle. Be wary and keep it secret."

I almost don't agree, but I do as I reluctantly nod. His smile grows, but remains sad, and he turns his back on me, strolling towards his son. A blonde woman comes into view and she beams at his arrival. She pecks him on the lips and my stomach curls. I feel sick all over again. She must be Draco's wife, Astoria. She's nowhere near as beautiful as my mother. She's too tall and too thin with a stern face and slanted eyes. But the real reason why I don't like her is because she's chosen over my mother. Just like Scorpius is chosen over me.

Draco looks so happy with his family and doesn't once look back at me again. He's too absorbed with his wife and son to bid me goodbye one last time with eye contact. Glaring, I storm off towards the luggage area and leave my belongings there for the men loading the train to take care of it. Before I board, I turn back and, unwillingly, look at them. I don't know why I'm still looking at that disgustingly happy family, since it's hurting me, but I do it anyway.

And then I notice a woman and her daughter, glaring menacingly at the Malfoy family, with practically as much malice as I'm looking at them. I eye them strangely, wondering why _they're_ looking at them in such a way. In a way I feel evil triumph when I see them, but I'm also taken aback. The woman is thin and pale and not quite so pretty, even less than Astoria Malfoy. Her hair is black and it slices at her jaw, a fringe cut horizontally across her forehead. Her lips are thin and her frail frame is dressed in a black dress that clings to her thin body. The daughter is, I suppose, prettier than the woman. Like her mother, her hair is dark—however not quite black, at least not yet—and possesses straight-across bangs as well. Her hair is very long, though, ending along her waist area. She's also short and very curvy, which is nice—I suppose. Both she and her mother have noses that are slightly upturned, which, in a weird kind of way, is sort of cute. And, just like the mother, the daughter is also draped in black clothing, including a black t-shirt dress, which appears hazardly torn, and black leggings.

Shaking my head, I leave the glaring to the odd pair and board the train. I push against kids of all ages, trying to find a compartment. Most seem filled, and I fear sharing one with people I don't know. I'm not exactly in the mood to sit with anybody at the moment.

I make my way towards the back of the train and, to my delight, find a completely bare compartment. I rush towards it and claim it as my own, shutting the sliding door behind me and slinking into the soft seats, sighing and trying to calm myself down from watching Draco and his happy family. But when I even think about forgetting about it, my stomach curls again and I feel like throwing up again. Instead I think about the school, wondering what a school of magic could be like.

But as I'm lost in thought, I suddenly hear a rapping on my window. I blink and look towards the door, a girl with long, dark, curly hair and large dark eyes. Her nose is too straight and I wonder if she's had work done to it. She's flashing me an excited pearly white smile, opening the door for herself.

"Why, hello!" she chimes, bubbly and giggly. I mentally groan. Exactly the type of girl I'm _not_ interested in. I want her to leave already, but I don't want to be rude. I'm just not in the mood for any company at the moment, so her timing couldn't have been worse. "I don't recall seeing you here, which is strange because I know everybody at Hogwarts," she continues. "Who are you?"

"I'm Aiden. I'm a transfer," I answer. Her eyes bulge, if that's even possible. There already naturally the size of over-sized almonds.

"A _transfer_?" she repeats, baffled.

"Yeah," I mutter in return.

"Wow! A transfer student! Where do you come from? How old are you? Are you coming from another magic school?" She asks so many questions at once, I feel as if my head is about to burst, but at least it takes my mind off of Draco and his family.

"I'm sixteen," is all I can answer. I'm not quite in the mood to really go into detail about why I'm here. It would resort to me thinking about Draco.

"Sixteen? Oh wonderful! You must be a sixth year as well. I'm sixteen too," she says. "Listen, do you mind if I join you? I can't seem to find another empty compartment."

I want to say no. In fact, it's on the tip of my tongue and I'm completely ready to say it, because, first of all, this compartment was empty when she came, as _I_ was already sitting here. I open my mouth and begin to explain how I'd rather keep the compartment to myself.

"Actually I—"

"Excellent! Thank you!" she exclaims, clapping her hands. I narrow my eyebrows as she leans out the door. "Duncan, over here!"

"Hey, I never said you could—"

"Hope you don't mind me bringing my friend here. Come, Duncan; I've found us a compartment."

I'm fuming inside because this stupid twit won't shut her fat mouth long enough to hear me out. I glare at her as she drags in a boy my age with dark hair and an athletic build. His eyes are large and golden brown and he's wearing a frown as his friend tugs him inside.

"Rowena, jeesh. Let go, why don't you?" he snaps at her. He looks at me before glancing back at her. "Oy, who's he?"

"This is Aiden," she introduces, flashing me another bright smile that is now repulsing me even further. "He's a transfer."

"A transfer? I wasn't aware Hogwarts accepted transfers," says the boy, eyeing me curiously.

"They don't," I snap, folding my arms across my chest. The boy is taken aback, but the girl continues grinning like I've said nothing rude.

"Anyway, Aiden, this is Duncan Bell. Oh! Silly me, I've forgotten to introduce myself." She clears her throat. "_I_ am Rowena Vane, names after the founding mother of Ravenclaw House, Rowena Ravenclaw."

I stare at her monotonously, as if she's just asked me to answer a very difficult calculus problem.

"We're both in Gryffindor," Rowena continues, ignoring my gaze. "Gryffindor _is_ the best House. The famous Harry Potter was place in our House back when he was in school twenty-six years ago."

None of this is sounding remotely familiar. What was a House? What was a Gryffindor? And who was Harry Potter? If _I _didn't know him, he wasn't all that famous.

But I did remember that these kids lived in the wizarding world. Harry Potter must have been a celebrity in the wizarding world, therefore, of course I wouldn't know who he was.

Rowena continues babbling nonsense as I try to ignore their presence, but I can't help but look back at them every few minutes. Rowena's of average height and has a relatively curvy figure, though it's not nearly as curvy as the girl I saw glaring at my father and his family. She's dressed in a green and pink argyle sweater and is sporting a black pleated skirt that ends mid-thigh, displaying most of her tan, long legs. Her hair bounces about her shoulders—I get an urge to just reach over and pull one of those springy curls.

Duncan is much taller than Rowena, perhaps my height. His athletic formed is compressed in regular jeans and a plain t-shirt, like I am. His dark hair sweeps over his golden eyes and his face is plastered with a bored expression, again, like me. Rowena obviously bothers me, but Duncan I think I can handle, however I want them both gone right now.

"I hope you'll get into Gryffindor," Rowena says, my attention—for some reason—snapping back to her voice. "Then you can join Dun and me. That would be nice, don't you think? What school did you say you were from? I bet it wasn't as good as ours. That's why you're switching, isn't it? I tend to be right about a lot of the things I guess. It must be some intuitive member in my mind."

I glance at Duncan, who gives me a sympathetic look, as if to say he's sorry his friend is being so annoying. I tune her out again and gaze out the window of the compartment door.

Suddenly, a group of girls pass, and—I'm not going to lie—they're all very attractive. One is tall and has such a tremendously curved figure, I feel like drooling. She's blonde with natural curls long enough to frame her well-developed chest. Her eyes are green and her wine-colored lips are pulled into a wide seductive smile when she looks at me. Her torso is pressed into a black, lacey, low-cut blouse that shows me her cleavage, and a small black skirt to match.

The second girl is just as gorgeous. She's not nearly as tall as the first, perhaps a couple inches shorter, and has pin-straight blonde hair that slices at her collarbone. There is a chocolate brown tone underneath her hair, and streaking through her side-swept bangs. She, too, has a massively curved figure, with strongly seductive brown eyes and full red lips. Her figure is molded into a tight, long-sleeved, wide-neck dress that clings to her figure.

And then the third, I now realize, is that girl I saw outside the train. She looks so out of place with her punk rock attire compared to the other girls, who are dressed as floozies, despite their alluring appearances. They all eye me curiously before walking away, the last girl keeping her eyes connected to mine longer than the other two.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

I try falling asleep on the train ride, but Rowena's exasperating chatter keeps me awake. I envy Duncan for sleeping through it, though I can't see how he can. Her voice is high and aggravating and I wish her to stop numerous times in my head. She continues on babbling about the school, about her home life, about her family, as if I am genuinely interested in her well-being. It's a shame she isn't the least bit attractive; I could have at least stared at her face while she talked. However her hair is wild and curly and she keeps flashing me flirty smiles. There is nothing cute about this girl at all.

I stare out of the window the entire ride. The scenery is quite nice and the rumbling of the train makes me drowsy, but Rowena's babbling, unfortunately, keeps me awake. I try to hint that I don't want to listen, such as rolling my eyes when she asks me a question and appear as if I'm not even listening, but she doesn't get it. I don't listen to her, but I can't help but hear her. It's really too bad for me because the train ride, like Draco says, it's excruciatingly long and we don't arrive at a station until the moon is up.

The train begins to slow and we stop in front of a small train station. Gas lamps are lit along the sidewalk, which faintly illuminates a small town in the background. Rowena squeals when we arrive and shakes Duncan awake, much to his demise. My eyes remain narrowed and I cross my arms.

"We're here! Dun, we're back. Wake up!"

He sits up, gently shoving her off and scowling at her, rubbing his eyes out. My eyes begin to droop and I yawn when he does. The ride was so long and a good nap would have done it justice. Rowena has officially made herself onto my shit list.

"Come on, boys," Rowena says, standing up and smoothing out her robes. Halfway through the ride, she advised that we dress into our robes. I wouldn't have done so if Duncan hadn't agreed, not that I'm in league with Duncan, but the two of them weren't the only ones doing it. Black robes fluttered about the aisles and compartments. Luckily it was Rowena who had left to change into her uniform, leaving the compartment to us males.

She opens the door and pushes through the crowds. She's so demanding, I roll my eyes again. Honestly, how can Duncan put up with her, unless he's just the same, hiding his true personality from me? Either way, I find the both of them rather strange, as I do everybody else. I feel so foreign and out of place. All of these kids have known that magic was in their future. I just barely found out a few days ago.

I fall behind Duncan and Rowena as they disappear in the pushing crowd. I feel so small in this train, grouped with hundreds of other witches and wizards. I just can't wait to get out so I can get to Bursty. Hopefully he enjoyed the train ride more than I did.

I finally make it off the train. As soon as I step off, I hear my name being called, as if I'm being searched for.

"Aiden? Where is he? Help me out, Dun," I hear Rowena say and I grumble, hoping my face goes unnoticed amongst these other unfamiliar faces. However I am unfortunate.

"Oh! There he is! Aiden! Over here!"

My eyes glance at Rowena and Duncan, Rowena waving her arm in the air to grab my attention and Duncan standing with her, his eyes anywhere but on me. I quickly avert them away, pretending to not notice them and drift in the opposite direction as them. I remember that Draco mentioned me arriving to the castle with the first years by boat, and Rowena and Duncan are standing near a cluster of horseless carriages.

"First years!" a booming voice suddenly rings through the chatter of the antsy and fully awake students, all of whom, I assume, have taken nice naps on the ride here. I look around to find the owner of the voice and suddenly spot him when he speaks again.

"First years! Over here!"

He's the largest man I have ever seen, bushy grey hair tumbling around his face, long and well past his shoulders, and molding with a just as bushy grey beard. His eyes are small and beady, lines of age marking his face. This man has definitely seen better days, as his face is also marked with a couple of scars. He's large and round, but the clothes draped on him look as if they are too big for him, which I don't see how is possible, as the man already seems large enough. He's carrying a gas lamp in the air in front of his face as he grins crookedly at the smallest students, who stare in awe at him.

I follow the smaller students, my height contrasting greatly with their miniscule bodies. I tug on my plain black robes and walk amongst the crowds of first years.

"Hold on now," the man says, stepping in front of me. His face is contorted with puzzlement, and, up close, my nose senses a stench that isn't too pleasant. "Who're ye? Ye don' look like an eleven-year-old."

"I'm a transfer," I say flatly, pressing my lips together. "I was told to ride with the first years. The boats, am I right?" He eyes me warily before nodding.

"Aye, the boats," he agrees. "What's your name, boy?"

"Aiden. Aiden Cooper." Suddenly, the man's eyes widen. I guess he's been told my name.

"Aye! Aiden Cooper! My apologies. Me brain ain' as young as it used to be. O' course, I heard o' ye. Ye'll be ridin' with us, that's righ'," the man says and steps aside, allowing me to pass through. "I'm Rubeus Hagrid. Been here me whole life, I tell ye, and there's one thin' that's fer sure: Hogwarts ain' ever had a case such as yours. Ye must be a special one." He smiles at me, but I can only tell because his beard lifts with his cheeks. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

As the rest of the first years gather together and the other students separate to the horseless carriages, which, I realize, are being drawn by themselves. I'm taken aback by watching these, forgetting that I'm actually here at a school of magic and wondering how in the blazes they're doing that, coming up with many technological explanations. But, I guess with the gas lamps and carriages, technology must not be too popular in these parts, wherever I am.

Hagrid leads us away from the train, and its brilliant engine bursts to life once again. We walk down a narrowing path, I lingering behind because the bloody eleven-year-olds keep on bumping into me like uncoordinated little beasts. They whisper about me, wondering what I'm doing here, who I am, _what_ I am (as if it weren't completely and ridiculously obvious). They wonder if I am a giant, which would explain my height.

"No, you little maggots," I snarl, interrupting the group of murmuring first years in front of me. Most of them consist of girls. "I'm _not_ a bloody giant. I'm a teenage boy, for Christ's sakes, who is a hell of a lot older than _you_."

"Then what are you _doing_ here?" inquires a brave little girl. I want to shoot her with a nasty spell with my new wand, but I remember that it's still in my luggage, which was being unloaded at the station while we coming off. I also remember that I don't even _know_ any nasty spells, and hope that I will learn some at this new school, because what's the use of magic if you can't fight with it?

"It's none of your business, you little bug. Now turn around and walk forward like good students, all of you, before you make me step on your sad little faces," I snap. They each widen their eyes and quickly hurry towards the students in front of them, getting as far away from me as they can. I'm not here to make friends with eleven-year-olds, so scaring them off doesn't bother me in the least. In fact, I'm glad I've scared them. I've got to show them whose boss.

We arrive at a dock where a large black lake stretches in front of us, multiple long boats bobbing along the dock. Hagrid explains that we will ride the boats to the castle, and then goes into general instructions of how to behave in a boat, as if nobody knows. Well, at least _I_ know. I once went sailing with a friend in the Celtic Sea one weekend.

Finally, it's time to get into groups and claim boats. The group that had whispered in front of me makes sure that I don't end up in a boat with them. They scurry away, claim a boat, and then wait to take off. I end up in a boat with two other small girls, who won't stop giggling and stealing glances from me. It's really annoying and I'm just about ready to jump into the icy cold lake. Once we're all ready to go, Hagrid leads us towards the castle.

When we arrive at shore, the castle's view is remarkable. The size is spectacular and majestic. I'm surprised that this is even a school and not some king's fortress.

And the inside is even greater than the outside, which I didn't think could be possible. The ceiling is so high, my eyes get lost in its depth. The floor is smooth stone and the walls are intricately carved. I feel as if I'm in a museum, or maybe even an oversized Vatican, yet, instead of paintings on the ceilings, clouds float above. Hagrid leaves us when we pass through the hundred-feet-tall front doors, and an extremely elderly woman with a strict face and loads of wrinkles greets us. I'm beginning to assume the entire staff here is just plain old, however, this lady is bloody _ancient_. She could be from Biblical times. She's dressed in emerald green robes that drag on the floor behind her and hang off of her frail form. Her white hair is tucked inside a tattered black traditional witch's hat, a weathered brown feather attached to the side of it. Without any words, she leads us through the castle and takes us up a grand staircase. She stops at the top of it and orders us to stop before her.

"Just beyond those doors you will experience the moment you've been waiting for," she says, her voice firm as she points behind her to another set of tall and elegant doors, though those are nowhere near the size of the doors to the castle. "You will be Sorted into your Houses, and from there, we will begin our start of the year feast. The Houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin, and you will stay in your House until the end of your time here. Throughout time here at Hogwarts, your House will begin to feel like your family. We also have what are called 'House Points.' Any good deeds or positive outcomes will earn you points, but rule-breaking will lose you points.

"And now, without further ado, we will begin the Sorting Ceremony. Please keep an orderly fashioned straight line as we walk through the doors," the lady says before she turns around marches straight for the doors, pushing them open as if they are ordinary doors of ordinary weight. The first years bustle about, giggling and whispering excitedly about which House they will be in. I roll my eyes and pull on the hems of my sleeves from the inside, feeling awkward walking into the grandest eating hall I've ever seen as kids my age sit at four long tables, watching us walk inside. Murmuring immediately takes hold of the curious watchers as they wonder why a kid my age is walking in a line with eleven-year-olds. Some of them snicker while others whisper curiously. I just want them to stop.

And then, out of the corner of my eye, I spot bushy-haired Rowena, sitting with Duncan at the table closest to me on my right side. I can see her waving excitedly, and then go into explaining what I'm doing here to the people around her. My stomach turns and I wish to be back at my old school. At least I know people there and have a couple of friends. At least it's a _normal_ school for _normal_ people.

We stop at a dais, on which a long table seating, I presume, the staff of the school is looking out at the room. A stool is placed in front of the staff table with a manky old witch's hat sitting on it. My eyebrows knit together. Was this how we were going to be "Sorted?" Were we going to put on the hat and then magically be placed in a certain House? I roll my eyes at the thought.

Suddenly, a voice chimes out of nowhere, and it begins to sing. It sings about it being a _hat_, and how it was created, and as it sings this, my eyes drift towards the old hat, and I realize that one of the seams has split open to form a mouth, and _it_ was singing. I'm taken aback by the bizarre object, but it doesn't stop it from singing. The song continues and explains what the woman had said were the "Houses" we'd be Sorted into. I guess this song sort of makes sense to what she was saying; at least I have a better grasp about what I'm about to endure.

The song finally comes to an end, and the room bursts into applause. I don't want to be rude and be the only one not clapping, so I do so briefly before returning my hands to my side. The old lady stands up on the dais and faces the room. She pulls out a scroll from a pocket in her robes and clutches it in her thin wrinkly hands, but before she opens it, her hawk-like eyes fall on me and I feel all of the color wash out from my face. Normally stares don't bother me, but her eyes seemed to just pierce through me like laser beams. Strangely enough, it scared me.

"Aiden Cooper," she announces, her eyes still on me. I gulp. Well, _she_ knows my name, and apparently my face hasn't been forgotten either, even though she's probably twice the age of that Hagrid man, and he was bloody old as well. As I stand there, the woman arches an eyebrow at me. "Will you come up here?"

I nod, the color returning only to my cheeks as I duck my head in embarrassment, the seated students at the tables letting out quiet snickers. I'm bloody new to this. I don't know the procedure, so all of them can stuff it, really. I try to ignore them as I make it up on the dais. The woman takes the old hat off of the stool and instructs me to sit on it. I do as I say, and she lowers the hat onto my head. I'm a bit repulsed at this; who knows where that hat has been, judging by the looks of it, it doesn't look like it's been anywhere pleasant. I'm also surprised that my presumption of how the Sorting goes is about is seemingly accurate—thus far, I suppose.

And then, suddenly, the sound of a voice in my ear jolts me awake from my thoughts and I widen my eyes. The voice is deep and husky and I look around to see where it's coming from.

"Up here, silly boy," the voice snaps. "I'm on your head."

Another round of laughter erupts through the room and I glower. I hate this school already.

It took me a moment to realize that the voice was actually the _hat_ speaking. Since when in the blazes do hats _talk_? Even my imagination doesn't run this far. Whoever thought of a talking hat? What sort of purpose could _that_ serve?

"Your thoughts are quite active, boy," the hat says and my eyebrows narrow. Brilliant, so it can read thoughts as well. "You must be the one they've been expecting. The transfer."

"Yeah, that's me," I grumble.

"I'm surprised you haven't heard of me," the hat continues. "Surely your father—"

"My father is dead," I interjected. The hat grunted.

"Your father is very much alive," he says, and I shut my eyes. I don't want to think about Draco and his other family, about how he was only with my mother for mere pleasure, about how I was actually a mistake, a baby of an affair, a bastard child.

"I can feel the bravery," the hat murmurs, pulling me from my thoughts. "No child would like to hear the truth of their existence. You differ from your father in this aspect. He ran from his mistakes. You do not. You confront your enemies."

My expression relaxes as I listen to the hat, but my eyes remain closed and my eyebrows narrowed. I don't question how he knows my history of violence at my schools, how I stand up for myself for being teased. If he can read my thoughts, then I guess it shouldn't surprise me that he can break into my memories.

"For generations your family has graduated from this school as a Slytherin," the hat mentions.

"Well, I guess that House if for me, isn't it?" I mention. The hat muses and thinks.

"Not necessarily. You differ from them. The family you come from is cold-hearted and has followed darkness, as if it were the only path to choose, as if they haven't any other choice.

"Now, do not get me wrong; Slytherin is a great House for those of a cunning and determined nature. Your future is a tricky one, young mister Cooper. You will be tempted, as many brave and daring soldiers are. Choose the correct path."

"I do not want to follow in his footsteps," I mutter, a burning image of Draco sizzling in my mind, and the hat realizes who I'm speaking of. "I am nothing like him."

The hat muses proudly. "The nerve you've got, boy," it chuckles. "You've made the right choice. Better be … GRYFFINDOR!"


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

I'm seated in between Rowena and Duncan, much to my demise. I forget that they're in Gryffindor as well and can't believe my luck, or rather, lack of. After I'm Sorted into my House, Professor McGonagall, the old woman, continues with Sorting, reading names off alphabetical order from the scroll she held in her hands. I learn later that she's the headmistress of the school.

"This is truly so exciting," Rowena says bubbly, and I mentally groan. As soon as I sit down, she immediately goes into introductions.

"That's Lily, James, and Albus," she says, pointing to a trio of siblings. The girl is redheaded, but the two boys have black shaggy hair. The girl's kind of cute, I guess, cute for a little girl. She's better looking than Rowena anyway.

"Nice to meet you," Lily says with a wide smile. "Welcome to Gryffindor."

"She's a couple years younger than us," Rowena explains. "Lily's a fourth year."

"Oy, I'm James," one of the black-haired boys pipes. The two look awful alike, other than their eye color. James has brown eyes, like Lily, but Albus has green. James sticks his hand out at me. "And I'm a seventh year, so don't cross me, or there will be hell to pay."

Lily and Albus exchange glances and roll their eyes.

"Don't listen to him. He's quite obnoxious," Albus inputs. James gives him a scowl before punching him in the arm.

"Anyway, Al is our age," Rowena continues. "Oh, and those are their cousins."

"Blimey, Vane, you're not going to introduce the poor chap to the whole bloody family, are you?" James groans.

"Well, what if we _want_ to meet the transfer?" inquires a bushy red-haired girl. She's really pretty, just like Lily, only Lily is too young. This girl appears my age. She smiles at me, brown eyes twinkling. "I'm Rose Weasley. Forgive my family and our size. We might as well make up the entire Gryffindor House," she jokes with a chuckle. I force a smile and look away. I'm not much of a people person and could really care less about getting to know their _entire_ family. Is it honestly extraordinarily necessary?

"This is my brother, Hugo. He's in Lily's year," Rose explains, pointing her thumb at a boy sitting in front of her. He looks a lot like her, only his eyes are blue rather than brown.

"I can speak for myself, thanks," he says with an eye roll, which Rose automatically returns. "Nice to meet ya, mate." He nods his head at me, and I do the same. "Hey, you don't happen to have an interest in wizard chess, do you? I've got quite a knack for it. We should play some time."

I stare at him blankly. "Wizard … chess? You mean, just chess, right?"

"Just chess?" Hugo repeats, puzzled. "You don't mean the Muggle game, do you? No, no, wizard chess is _far_ more entertaining." Rose sighs and rolls her eyes again.

"Oh boy. Here we go," Lily mutters.

"It's almost as if leading an army, barking commands at your pieces and then watching them smash the opponent to bits. It's one of the best inventions ever!"

I'm taken aback. The pieces smash the other pieces to bits? What kind of technology is that?

"Voice-activated chess pieces? Well, I guess that is truly impressive," I say with a shrug.

"Anyway, before we get _too_ interested in this topic," Rose cuts in, "Rowena still needs to finish introducing the family."

"It's alright, really," I say immediately. "I think I can manage getting to know people on my own." Rose's eyebrows rise and she shuts her mouth, nodding in agreement. I sigh and perch my elbows on the table. I want to retire to my bedroom and wake up from this crazy dream.

My eyes wander the room as I drown out the barking voice of Professor McGonagall calling first years and sending them to their new Houses. My gaze unintentionally lands on a blonde-haired boy—Draco's son. My eyebrows immediately narrow into a glare and my lips pull into a frown. He's sitting tall with his back straight, the black boy he was with earlier outside the train sitting beside him in the same pose. Draco's son is watching the Sorting Hat, but his grey eyes are dull and he appears uninterested in the ceremony. My blood curdles at the sight of him.

"Who're you looking at?" pipes an annoying voice. Rowena. "Ah, the Malfoy boy. Well, he's a piece of work."

"Not in a good way," Duncan mutters next to me. It's one of the first things he's said since we arrived at the school.

"Very true, although, I won't lie; he's quite handsome," Rowena says. I roll my eyes.

"His name is Scorpius, isn't it?" I ask. Rowena nods.

"Yes. It's rumored his father is a former Death Eater, followers of the fallen Dark Lord," she explains. My eyebrows knit together and, for once, I mentally urge her to continue talking. This information is probably the only useful information I'll get from her.

"The Dark Lord?"

"Oh we're not going on about that, are we?" Lily groans. I look at her strangely.

"Their father was the Chosen One, the boy who was supposed to defeat the Dark Lord. He wreaked havoc for many years. You know, don't you? He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

"Otherwise known as Voldemort. Come on, Rowena. The name is no longer tabooed," Albus says. Rowena shakes her head.

"Can't be too careful. Yes, everything is fine now, but who's to say a new Dark lord won't rise?"

"Anyway, what else about Scorpius's father do you know?" I ask impatiently.

"Well, not much. Only what my mother's mentioned. She was quite the popular girl here and knew all of the gossip. I guess Scorpius's family were all Dark Lord followers. Most were Death Eaters."

This must have been what the Sorting Hat meant about Draco's family following the darkness. They followed this so-called "Dark Lord" for many years. The Sorting Hat had meant his family was _evil_, I guess. My eyes drift back to Scoripus and his smug face. Nothing evil about that boy, but perhaps just a pathetic spoiled worm.

"Oh, and, just a bit of gossip Mum mentioned but," Rowena's voice lowers to a whisper amongst the few of us around her, "apparently Scorpius's father was a real catch and he used to fool around with this one particular girl in Slytherin, Pansy Parkinson, who is actually Kira Pucey's _mother_."

"Well, that's not awkward at all," Duncan says sarcastically with a twitch in his upper lip.

"Isn't it? How dreadful. I also hear that Pansy is still in love with Scorpius's father, Draco, and that she hates his wife, even though she's married herself."

"Kira Pucey?" I ask.

"That girl sitting with Tatiana Higgs and Giselle Goyle. She has long black hair and dreadfully pale skin. The girl needs to get out more," Rowena says, pointing across the room discreetly. I follow her finger and notice she's talking about the girl that caught my eye passing my compartment. The two girls next to her were the girls she was walking with. And then I remember that this Kira girl is also the same girl standing with the thin woman, glaring at Draco and his family. So _that_ was the reason for their glares—her mother is an obsessive freak over the guy. I wouldn't be surprised if Kira was actually Draco's daughter too, considering the type of bloke he is.

"How old is Kira?" I ask.

"She's a sixth year, like us," Rowena answers. If she really _is_ Draco's daughter, then that would make the scum a three-timing pervert. Thinking of this really makes my blood boil. As if leaving my mum weren't enough, he thought it better to knock up a blast from the past. My respect for Draco lowers even further and I'm ashamed he's my father.

"Oy, mate, are you okay?" James asks, snapping his fingers in my face, snapping my mind away from Draco.

"Just fine," I seethe, looking down at the table, blonde hair falling in my face. My hands grip into tight fists as I lower them onto the table. The others look at me strangely before creating new talk, a topic quite further from Rowena's gossip. In a way, I regret her telling me, but at least I'm informed, although the saying does go ignorance is bliss.

Finally, the last kid is Sorted and Professor McGonagall places the hat back on the stool. She stands behind a podium, a bronzed owl with its wings outstretched framing the top part of it, and calls the attention of the school. She begins with a welcoming back to Hogwarts speech, which takes away her strictness as her smiles are actually quite friendly-looking, and then transitions into rules. Finally, she ends the speech with a special announcement—a special introduction, more like.

"I would like to introduce our newest addition to Hogwarts, apart from the incoming first years. You watched him being Sorted into Gryffindor—congratulations, Gryffindor." There was a loud cheer from my table. "He is Aiden Cooper, a transfer student from the Muggle world. He is an extraordinarily special student as he is new to our school as a sixteen-year-old sixth year, rather than entering as an eleven-year-old first year, as all of you have. So, without further ado, please make him feel welcome, as for the rest of the first years."

I feel my face turn red as she says this, but Rowena, Lily, and Rose smile widely at me. James snickers and smiles mockingly at me as well. Duncan rolls his eyes and shakes his head at him.

"Now, let the start-of-year feast officially begin!" Professor McGonagall claps her hands once and, suddenly, the five long tables (including the staff table) illuminate with brightly-colored food, sizzling hot and fresh. My eyes widen. This is most certainly not plausible. The feast merely appeared out of thin air … _literally_!

"Go on, Aiden," Rowena urges. "Eat. It won't poison you." She giggles and scoops herself some mashed potatoes onto the golden plate that's appeared in front of her. The plates are so shiny that I can see myself clearly in them, like a mirror. I look around. Everyone else is hungrily grabbing for food as well. I guess I am a bit hungry. I haven't eaten anything other than some weird jelly beans and a pumpkin pasty that Rowena bought for me on the train. That and the breakfast Mum made for me before Draco came to pick me up to head to the station.

A platter of lamb chops sits directly in front of me, and the smell of them makes my mouth involuntarily water. Sighing, I reach for a couple, and then notice the shepherd's pie right next to that and get some of it as well. In no time, my plate is filled with everything from roast beef to roasted potatoes, and then piling a separate plate for my dessert as well. The food is extraordinarily delicious, much better than Mum's and Grandmother's cooking, anyway, but neither of them are amazing cooks to begin with, so they're hardly to compare. Even after I clean my plate of thirds, the food still smells so appetizing, but I can't eat anymore.

After everybody finishes eating, Professor McGonagall approaches the podium yet again and claps her hands once. The food and plates and goblets are all gone and the tables are cleared of any leftover dishes.

"Now that everybody has finished and is full to their stomach's content, you may be dismissed to your Houses. Prefects, please lead your Houses back to the common rooms. Tomorrow will begin your official first day back to classes. Good night!"

After that, everybody rose from the tables, chatting with each other about summer vacations and classes they signed up for. I stand with Duncan and Rowena. The food had distracted me from moping over my unlucky day and the annoyance of the people around me, and I actually had a decent conversation with them. I know this won't last for long, though. Once tomorrow begins, I'll be back to feeling the same way.

"Mr. Cooper," Professor McGonagall calls, and I turn around. She beckons me to the podium and Rowena and Duncan wait for me. "That is not necessary. Miss Vane and Mr. Bell, you may return to your Houses. Mr. Cooper will be meeting you there." Rowena and Duncan exchanged puzzled looks, but nod at Professor McGonagall and follow the rest of the students out of the Great Hall. I proceed to the podium.

"Follow me to my office," she instructed, and led me away from the Great Hall as well, her emerald robes billowing behind her while I wondered what she could want from me.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

Professor McGonagall's office is large and round and it can fit my entire house perfectly inside it. The ceiling is tall and there are long stone pillars placed around the room. The walls are decorated with portraits of older men and women, all looking at me with curious gazes, literally. In addition to this maddening school, the paintings move about and talk to you from inside the frame. It's completely barmy.

She leads me up on a dais where her desk is, a long and organized table with an elegant armchair that's pushed into it. She sits in the armchair as I stand before her on the opposite side of the desk.

"Your father took the liberty to fill out classes you'll be taking, as, I assume, coming to this school was very last minute for you and hadn't the opportunity to request courses. Your teachers have agreed to give you extra study time and tutoring to help you catch up as soon as you can to the appropriate level of knowledge of magic."

She opens a drawer in her desk and fishes out half a sheet of parchment. She puts on the pair of rectangular spectacles that are draped around her neck with a beaded chain and looks over the paper.

"Your schedule will consist of usual sixth year courses, and during times of free periods you will go to the classes listed instead of returning to your common room. This will provide you extra practice and will help catch you up to par. I trust your father took you out to buy all of the books you will need for this year?" I nod my answer. "Excellent. Then you will see this"—she waved the parchment in the air—"tomorrow morning at breakfast when everybody else receives their schedules." She placed the parchment back into her desk and folded her spindly fingers.

"Um … madam," I start, not entirely sure how to address the headmistress. Should I call her headmistress? Professor? Lady?

"Professor McGonagall, or simply Professor, works just fine, Mr. Cooper," she says, as if she's read my thoughts.

"Right … _Professor_." I clear my throat and continue. "Draco—er, my _father_—" I actually hate saying that he is my father at the moment. I still feel no remorse not forgiving him, nor am I ready to forgive him. I still feel crushed for what he's done. "He mentioned that I not say anything about being in relation to him or his other son," I say. Professor McGonagall nods.

"Yes, and, as I'm sure he's mentioned, the staff has been asked to keep the relation under secrecy as well. It is a pleasure to have you here, Mr. Cooper, and we wish you could have joined us when your letter was first sent, but Mr. Malfoy does have his reasons for keeping you from your true identity, despite my extreme disagreement with his choices made."

I can't help but knit my eyebrows together and smile a small smile. She doesn't agree with what he's done either. Does she not have any respect for Draco either?

"However, he's pleaded we keep it secret, so secret it shall remain. I owe Mr. Draco Malfoy nothing, but in order to keep any arousal from the students, drama such as this should very much be kept confidential."

"I just don't see how everything should play in his favor, after all that he's done to me and my mum—" My voice trails off as I glare at the ground.

"It is a business none of us want to get ourselves into. Your father made off choices, and he does pay for them. However, it is good of him to finally bring you to your rightful school, to learn your rightful heritage. _That_ we should thank him for. He does risk his secret letting loose on his son." Professor McGonagall purses her lips briefly before continuing. "But, Aiden, if you ever do need to discuss this situation … I am no therapist, but I am willing to sit down and listen to what you have to say. Your situation is quite the sticky one. The love child business, the unusual transfer to such a foreign school of foreign knowledge … My office will always be open for you."

I sigh. "I think I'll be able to manage on my own." Professor McGonagall gives me a sad smile before nodding. Her eyes then avert to a painting of a pallid man, his eyes cold and black, just like the long hair framing his face. His nose is pointed and his lips thin. He's perhaps one of the only men on the walls that aren't old.

"Aiden, this is the previous and late headmaster, Severus Snape. His was Head of Slytherin, and also close with your father's family," Professor McGonagall explains. I narrow my eyes at his portrait, and he does the same to me.

"Ah, so he was involved with that Voldemort bloke and Death Eater business, right? Weren't all the Malfoys part of that?"

The portrait of Severus Snape crosses his arms and glares at me, but I roll my eyes and return my gaze to Professor McGonagall.

"That remains unimportant," she says quickly. She turned to the portrait. "Severus, would you be so kind as to show Mr. Cooper to Gryffindor Tower?"

"_Gryffindor Tower_, is it?" Severus says in a monotonous deep voice. His eyebrows rise to his greasy hairline. "Reckon you've made history in the Malfoy family, Mr. Cooper. A member of the Malfoy family placed in a House other than Slytherin. Your father will be delighted." He adds the last bit in a sarcastic tone, and I snarl at him.

"I don't care about that stupid family, alright? My name isn't Malfoy, I've made no history."

"But you are the son of one, aren't you?" he says. I continue to glare at him. "Right then. Off this way."

I watch as Severus Snape travels from one portrait to another, my mind baffled, but my glare still stays on my face.

"Coming, Mr. Cooper?" Snape inquires when he notices I'm not following. I roll my eyes and step down from the dais, following the traveling portrait of the greasy-haired man out of the headmistress's office and through the castle.

"You knew the Malfoys well?" I finally ask when I'm climbing a literally moveable staircase. Lots of things are literal in this school, apparently.

"I thought you said they weren't your family, therefore why do you care?" Snape asks monotonously. I snarl at him.

"They _aren't_ my family, and I _don't_ care. I was merely curious," I snap. Snape snarls at me and shakes his head.

"I knew the Malfoys well," he begins as he saunters through a large painting of vast grasslands, foreign creatures munching on the blades of grass and crying out. "They're a filthy rich and proud family."

"That much I know," I mutter under my breath. Snape eyes me before scoffing and traveling into the next painting.

"Draco wanted nothing more than to fit the role of a powerful and fearless wizard, but he was anything but. I stuck up for him because I had to. I was close with the lot of them, but they're all spineless cowards. Like father, like son."

"Surely you're not referring to _me_," I snarl.

"No, you imbecilic boy," he retorts with an eye roll. "I was referring to your father and _his_ father—your grandfather, Lucius Malfoy. Lucius was close to the Dark Lord Voldemort, despite his cowardice. He never showed it, but I saw right through him."

"And my fath—_Draco_, he's the same?"

"At least he was. I haven't seen him since he came to the castle the first week of August, begging the headmistress to accept you as a late student. I don't know much about his bravery now," Snape mentions. I glare and shake my head, folding my arms over my chest.

"Well, I guess not much has changed, then. He's too much of a bloody chicken to confess the true outcome of his affair with my mother, that as a result of it, _I_ was born."

"Mr. Malfoy always was one for excuses. He thought he could do everything himself. Perhaps he thinks he can fix this problem on his own."

I stop in my tracks and seethe at the painting. "_I _am _not_ a problem. _He_ is. I am a victim in this entire ordeal. All I wanted was a father, and when I finally get one, he isn't there for me. He's too busy bustling about and playing house with his _first_ family—his _intentional_ family."

Snape stops and stares into my eyes, his eyebrows narrowed as he stares down his long nose, but his gaze is sad and I know he pities me. I wasn't asking for his pity, but I get it anyway. Shaking my head, I continue to walk up the stone staircase and Snape follows, soon getting ahead of me so I can follow him. We're silent after that for the rest of the walk.

"Here is the entrance to the Gryffindor common room," Snape says as he points beside him to a large life-sized portrait of a large woman dressed in a pink silk gown that does nothing for her atrocious figure.

"Password?" she booms in a deep voice. I'm taken aback, as her voice is just as hideous as her face.

"Fat Lady, Aiden Cooper is new to this school. He doesn't know the password," Snape explains. The Fat Lady peers at me warily, pressing her lips before revealing the password.

"It's snidgets," she sighs reluctantly. My face contorts with puzzlement and disgust.

"What the bloody hell is a _snidget_?"

The Fat Lady arches an eyebrow, then mutters to Snape, "Muggle-born, isn't he?"

"Half-blood, actually," Snape corrects, "but he isn't familiar with our world. He is the transfer student we've been expecting." Her eyes grow wide as her gaze returns to my scowl.

"Ah! I see. Well then, young boy, welcome to Gryffindor." Suddenly, the portrait swings open, like a door, and reveals a hidden archway that leads into another room.

"This is where I leave you, Mr. Cooper. Until we meet again, which I highly doubt we will, unless you become a frequent visitor of the headmistress's office," he says before turning on his heel and sauntering away, black robes billowing behind him like a cape.

"In you go, Mr. Cooper," the Fat Lady says, bringing my attention back to her. "Haven't got all day, you know." I roll my eyes and walk through the portrait hole, soon entering a circular scarlet room. It reminds me of a lounge, as they are scarlet loveseats and armchairs circling a large fireplace with a brilliant fire lit. Some tables and chairs and bookshelves are scattered along the edges of the room, and it's bustling with life. Students are lounging on the loveseats, on the rugged floor, and at the tables, chatting animatedly.

"Aiden!" a voice exclaims from the side of the room. I see a bushel of dark curly hair flashes before my eyes and I'm suddenly face to face with Rowena Vane. Joy.

"About time," says James Potter from one of the tables. There's a thick chessboard set in between him and Hugo Weasley, and, just like Hugo had explained earlier that evening at the Sorting ceremony, the chess pieces _do_ move.

"What took you?" inquires Rose, combing a red curl behind her ear. "McGonagall didn't give you an earful, did she?"

"Uh, no … Just some stuff about my schedule and how it will work out, since my dad requested I be given extra classes to catch up with you guys," I explain.

"Oh. So what classes did you get?" asks Lily.

"I didn't get to see," I say sheepishly.

"Well, no doubt you'll have classes with Dun, Al, Rose, and I," Rowena says optimistically. "So, that's good."

"You should probably check out your new dorm. You get to room with Duncan and Albus," Rowena suggests cheerfully. "It should be nice, bonding I mean."

I turn to Duncan, who's leaning against a wall with his arms crossed over his chest while Albus sits beside Hugo. Duncan rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but I see a small smile appear on his lips.

"Give the guy a break, Row. He's only just arrived here. He'll see everything eventually," Duncan says. Rowena rolls her eyes and playfully sticks her tongue out at him. She then turns to me and flashes me another flirty smile, showing me all of her pearly white teeth. She must be really proud of them to be showing them off at me so often.

"Oy, Aiden," Hugo calls over his shoulder. "Come over here. Lemme show you how the wizards play chess." He narrows his eyebrows at his cousin James and smirks, while James rolls his eyes and sits back in his chair.

I look around the group of cheerful and animated students. I'm still not used to all of the people wanting me to hang around them. I'm still slightly repulsed by everybody, but maybe that's because I keep thinking about the entire reason why I'm here, how Draco and his son are involved. It just kills all of the fun. The school is a freak show, but, I have to admit, incredibly spectacular. I've been introduced to a whole new world that I'm still trying to make sense of, but it just keeps leading back to Draco, my long-lost dead father who, in actuality, wasn't dead and not really lost at all.

"Everything alright, mate?" Duncan calls from the wall. I look towards him and nod, combing my blonde hair out of my face.

"Yeah. I guess maybe I do want to check out my new room," I say. Rowena beams next to me.

"Oh," he says and then walks over to me. "Okay. Well, just follow me."

"Oh, you're going to have so much fun, bonding with my brother-figure," Rowena says giddily as she follows us up a short spiral stone staircase. I eye her strangely, but Duncan rolls his eyes.

"Okay, Row. Rose and Lily need you down there," he says, trying to get rid of her. "Besides, we wouldn't really be bonding if you were here too."

"Rubbish. You two could bond just as well with me there. So, Aiden, have you brought an animal with you?"

I stare at her in disbelief. "Uh, yeah … A toad," I say, slowly registering her question.

"A toad?" she asks, slightly disgusted. I roll my eyes, but she recovers quickly with another perky comment. "That's fascinating! Toads are commonly used during Transfiguration."

"Um … brilliant …" I say. "Hey, are girls even allowed in the boys' dormitories?" This question is for both Duncan and Rowena, but Rowena jumps on the answer first.

"Of course. It's just the girls' dormitories that are off limits to the boys, so all of your naughty ideas can wash out of your mind, Mr. Cooper," she scolds playfully, tapping a slim finger on my nose. I eye her as if she's crazy but, of course, she doesn't get the hint. "The girls' dormitories are protected with a boy-proof charm. Any boy who tries to walk up the steps to the dorm rooms gets a fun ride down to the common room, as the stairs transfigure into a slide. It's quite entertaining when a boy things he's clever enough to beat the charm but ends up getting beat himself."

I sigh as I roll my eyes over to Duncan, who's just shaking his head as he pushes open the door to our dorm room.

I enter a circular dorm room, five four-poster beds placed around the room. Four appear to be obviously taken, as the beds are unmade and there are belongings placed next to them. There's only one bed that's made neatly, and I take it that this bed is mine, as I see Bursty's cage at the foot of it, perched on top of my trunk.

"Oh! McGonagall made sure your new House colors came in," Rowena exclaimed, pointing to a pile of scarlet and gold neckties, black robes with the Gryffindor patch on the breast, and scarves of scarlet and gold as well. "And this must be your … toad."

She crouches down in front of the cage and pokes her nose in Bursty's face. He bloats and then turns away, which brings a small smirk to my face, as if he doesn't want to look at her. Duncan snickers as Rowena's eyebrows rise, her lips pursing into a pout.

I press my hand into the mattress of my new bed. The bedspread is scarlet, just like the common room, as are the drapes from the canopy of the four-poster. The pillows are white and big. They look really fluffy and I have an urge to belly-flop on the bed and just stuff my face into the pillows.

"That bed's always been empty," Duncan mentions, nodding his head towards my bed, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his black slacks. "None of us knew why, but I guess we do now. Reckon McGonagall's been waiting for your admittance."

Rowena smiles widely at me, showing me all of her teeth again. "Must be fascinating, though. You're like a celebrity! You've made Hogwarts history," she says.

"Yeah well, this is all just dandy," I say dully.

"You never did tell us what school you came from," Rowena reminds me. I mentally groan. "Hogwarts is the only school in the United Kingdom. Did you come from a school in another country? Durmstrang Institute in Bulgaria?"

"I'd really rather not talk about it," I mutter, suppressing an eye roll and trying to keep my tone steady.

"Why did you transfer? Thought Hogwarts would be a better school, huh? Or perhaps you were expelled? What did you do? Burn anything down, maybe? Is that why you were admitted so late in age—because of your record?"

"I said I didn't want to talk about it." I can't help but let my words seethe through my teeth. This girl is truly getting on my last nerve. I'm just about to let loose my backhand to her cheek, and I don't even care that she's a girl.

"Oh come on. It can't be that bad. You can share the juicy details with us," she says coyly, wriggling her eyebrows. I quickly straighten and glare at her, baring my teeth and clenching my fists at my sides. I feel my upper lip twitch.

"Rowena, he doesn't want to talk about it. Let it go," Duncan intercepts, his tone firm with Rowena. She arches an eyebrow at him before crossing her arms and pouting at me again.

"Fine. Have it your way then," she says stubbornly.

"I _will_," I snap back defensively. She's taken aback by my comeback and rises to her feet.

"Well, I'll leave you two alone then," she says, as if it will be such a great loss if she's gone. My stomach jumps with joy when she leaves and I sigh heavily, falling back on my bed.

"I never got to apologize for her behavior," Duncan says, kicking the floor with his toe. "Rowena can get pushy at times. She likes to ask questions, in case you hadn't noticed." I scoff and roll my eyes. "But you'll get used to her."

"I don't think I want to," I mutter under my breath, but Duncan hears me anyway.

"She's not a bad person. A bit of an annoyance, perhaps, but she has a good heart. She's a good friend," he reassures. I press my lips together and lay back on my bed, my hair falling from my face. I stare up at the top of the canopy. We're silent for a while before Duncan tries to pick up another conversation.

"So, that bonding thing Rowena was talking about," he starts. I arch an eyebrow and turn to him. He shakes his dark hair away from my face, his golden eyes slightly narrowing. "You want to try it?"

I stare at him for a while before I sigh and break into a small smile. Duncan's a pretty cool guy. I think I can handle him while I'm here at this new school. Despite my resent to being here, I still didn't want to be left alone. I needed friends, no matter what I thought. Friends were what would make my life at this boarding school a lot easier, and since Duncan was offering in a non-annoying way, I reckon it could be a good way to start building friendship.

"Sure," I answer, sitting up. "Why not?"


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

The Great Hall buzzes with quiet chatter, as most people aren't completely awake yet. Sitting beside me are Rowena and Rose—they both made sure they got seats next to me, which I found both irritating and odd. The tables are laid out with platters of breakfast meals, ranging from bacon and eggs to kippers and bowls of porridge. In front of me is a plate piled with scrambled eggs, a couple of rolls, slices of bacon and sausages, and a couple of crepes. A tall glass of orange juice sits above my plate.

"Oh I'm so excited for my schedule," exclaims Rowena, which is no surprise. Even at seven in the morning she's more bubbly than a shaken fizzy drink. She turns to me. "What classes have you signed up for, Aiden? Are you taking Care of Magical Creatures? It's a truly fascinating class. It's one of my favorites, really. Learning about the animals in the magic world. I do hope you're not taking Herbology, though. Dreadfully boring course. Professor Longbottom may be a nice fellow, but he drones on for ages and the plants he makes us study are pathetic."

Of course I'm tuning her out by this point. I pick out the words magical creatures and a Professor Longbottom, nearly choking on the spoonful of porridge I've shoveled into my mouth. How hideous a name is _Longbottom_? I think I'd hang myself if I were born with such a name. It's far worse than _Scorpius_, that's for sure.

"That's not true," Rose protests from my other side. She places a hand on my arm closest to her and looks up at me. "Herbology is really fascinating. Professor Longbottom's plants _aren't_ boring." She tosses a foul gaze at Rowena.

"I don't even know what I'm taking," I say through my mouthful of porridge. Rose, slightly disgusted, lets go of my arm and backs away from me, which I am grateful for. Rowena is not fazed even the slightest by my repulsive behavior. Instead, her eyebrows stitch together and her large, narrowed, dark chocolate-colored eyes stare at me in puzzlement.

"What do you mean you don't know what you're taking?" she asks. "You were supposed to choose which courses you wanted to take before you came here." Her tone almost sounds offended and I roll my eyes and continue stuffing porridge in my mouth, followed by a crepe.

"I just don't know, okay?" I snap, food flying from my mouth. Rose winces, and Rowena's eyes widen as she sees my half-eaten food speckling the table in front of her. Duncan, Albus, and Hugo snicker at the females' reactions.

"You _really_ ought to wait and swallow your food before talking," Rowena says, wiping the table with her cloth napkin, as if I don't know manners. I open my mouth to say something, but before I can form any words, Professor McGonagall bursts into the room, marching with her thin figure straight and her head topped with a matte black pointed witch's hat. She makes her way to the podium in front of the teachers' table and calls to our attention.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she announces. "Here I have your new class schedules. If you would please stay in your seats, the parchments will make their way towards you. That is all and enjoy the rest of your breakfast."

She pulls out a sleek wand from the pocket of her matching raven robes and taps the stack of parchment she's placed on the podium. Suddenly, the papers begin to levitate and waft across the room, landing in front of people on the table, in their hands, and even in their food. Hugo's schedule pecks him in the face and Duncan's schedule lands on top of his goblet of orange juice. Rowena reaches for hers with ease and immediately scans it over; the other two boys have tossed theirs aside to finish their breakfasts. Suddenly, Rowena squeals and I can't help but cringe.

"I've made advanced Divination and Potions, and I have double Care of Magical Creatures today!" she exclaims excitedly.

"I've got advanced Divination and Potions as well," Rose mentions with a large smile.

"Advanced Divination?" James says from beside Albus. "Why on earth would you want advanced _Divination_?"

"Why not?" Rowena says in return. "Professor Trelawney is a genius."

"Professor Trelawney is a _whack job_," James argues. "Just ask your mum, Rosie. She'll vouch for me."

"Mum just wasn't interested, that's all," Rose says with a shrug. "Doesn't mean I can't be." James rolls his eyes before shoving a crispy piece of bacon into his mouth.

"What have you got, Aiden?" Rowena asks eagerly. My schedule's fallen right before my plate, neatly nestled beside my goblet of orange juice. Before I can even reach for it, Rowena snatches it from the table and holds it tightly in her face.

"Can I at least _look_ at it first?" I snarl, but she either doesn't hear me or ignores me. I've come to the conclusion that Rowena Vane has selective hearing, as she doesn't hear a lot of the rude comments I make of her.

"Oh how exciting! You've got Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms, along with Astronomy, Potions, and—oh!—Care of Magical Creatures," Rowena reads. Rose reaches in front of me for my schedule, and I let out an audible groan, but the only people who can apparently hear it are the boys sitting opposite of me, who snicker softly amongst themselves. I shoot them glares.

"But—this is odd," Rose states. "You've got an entirely separate schedule apart from your sixth year one. These are all first year-level classes. Why are you taking first year classes?"

I growl and violently snatch the parchment out of her hands, leaving her taken aback with a wide set of eyes, and fold the schedule, stuffing it in the pocket of my robes.

"Again, it's none of your business," I seethe and Rose's cheeks flush a deep crimson.

"Sorry," she squeaks.

"That is rather odd, though," Rowena wonders aloud, disregarding my rudeness towards Rose. "Even though you are from the Muggle world, you shouldn't have two schedules, unless you're so far behind that you know absolutely nothing about magic. But, I guess that is understandable. I wonder how you were accepted in the first place as a sixth year Muggle-born. That alone is just implausible."

It's apparent that I'm fuming now. I'm so overwhelmed and irritated, I'd love nothing more than to stuff her face into a boiling hot pot of steaming porridge. Anything to shut that fat mouth of hers.

"Well!" Duncan pipes, his voice slicing through Rowena's babbling. "I think it's best that we get going. Who else has got first hour Potions?"

"That'd be me," Albus states, raising a hand.

"Not us," Rose says, looking at Rowena. "We've got our double Divination the first two hours." She and Rowena exchange excited looks while I sit in between them.

"What about you, Aiden?" Albus inquires. "What have you got first hour?"

I pull out my hastily folded schedule and look it over. Relief washes over me as I see that I do not have double advanced Divination for my first two hours.

"I've got Potions first hour too," I say. "What exactly do we _do_ in Potions? Brew concoctions like witches do in old films?"

James bursts into laughter at my curiosity. "Oh Muggles. They're quite humorous, eh?" He nudges Duncan, who rolls his eyes.

"You do brew concoctions in Potions class," Rose answers. "Mum told me about those films you talk about. She's a Muggle-born witch, so she grew up with stuff like that."

"Is that so?" I mumble, still annoyed that James has laughed at my pondering. I suddenly dislike him at the moment.

After breakfast is over, the food disappears from the tables and everyone stands to head to their first class. I join Duncan and Albus and am pleased to finally part from Rowena and Rose.

I'll admit, I'm a little nervous for Potions. After all, this is my first magic class. I'm not exactly sure what to expect, but I'm not about to ask Duncan and Albus about it, not after James's patronizing comment at breakfast. Though Duncan and Albus don't look like the type of people to make fun of others, I still can't be too sure, since I hardly know them. Although, I do have some respect for Duncan Bell; after the bonding moment in my new dorm room, I got a glimpse at what kind of person he is. He seems trustworthy, but I still can't be too sure, at least not yet.

* * *

The teacher is an incredibly elderly man, maybe older than Professor McGonagall—which is _very_ old. His short and rotund stature is drenched in eccentric velvet robes with gold lining along the hems. He has a bald head and a white walrus mustache, and the wrinkles underneath his eyes are so deep because of his heaviness. He seems jolly, though, and he reminds me of a very short Santa Claus.

Duncan leads the way into the classroom. Immediately I take notice to the other students already in the classroom.

"Rats," Albus mutters under his breath. "We have this class with Slytherins."

The word _Slytherins_ reminds me of Scorpius Malfoy and my fists tighten and my eyebrows involuntarily narrow into a glare.

"Just ignore them," Duncan advises with an eye roll.

He gets a couple of desks for our trio. Duncan and I sit at one and Albus sits by himself. He's soon joined by another Gryffindor who I don't know.

"Oy. How're mate?" he asks Albus before nodding in Duncan's direction.

"Timothy Longbottom, Aiden," Duncan introduces. Timothy glances towards my direction and grins. "Tim, this is Aiden."

"The new kid," Timothy says knowingly. "Your case is quite the peculiar one, my friend."

"So I've heard," I mutter.

Timothy is short boy with tousles of blonde hair that resembles straw. His eyes are wide and playful and he reminds me of a twelve-year-old rather than a sixteen-year-old.

"This is Professor Longbottom's son," Duncan adds.

"Yet Herbology is _not_ my subject. Horrid topic. It would appear that he is the only green thumb in the family," Timothy jokes.

More students file in quickly and the beach ball-resembling teacher calls the attention of the entire class and the room falls silent of its murmuring chatter.

"Welcome back, sixth years!" the teacher announces joyfully, clapping beefy hands together. "I trust your holiday was lovely. It's wonderful to see all of your familiar faces again."

I immediately feel out of place and shrink slightly in my seat. I obviously do not fall under the category of a familiar face, since I am new this year.

The large teacher glimpses in my direction and beams. "_You_ must be Aiden Cooper, the student we've been waiting for!" I arch an eyebrow.

"Yeah," I mumble.

"Welcome to sixth year Potions, my boy. I've already been informed of the extra Potions lessons at the first year level," he continues, letting everybody else know of my schedule, as if I really want them to know. My eyes narrow into slits and I pray for him to fall on his face. I'd go up and punch him myself, but I don't know what the hell kind of spell he'll cast on me, or if he'll sneak some voodoo potion in my drink during mealtimes. "Not to worry, lad, you will be caught up with your fellow classmates in no time. In the meantime, bear with my lessons."

I learn that this teacher's name is Professor Horace Slughorn, and that he's been Head of Slytherin since the 1930's. No wonder he's so old. Professor Slughorn begins a lesson on a love potion, and I'm both interested and repulsed. How corny was a _love potion_? That was stuff you read about in fairy tales. Then again, this entire place _is_ a fairy tale.

But learning how to brew an actual potion is actually what peaks my interest. The idea is both absurd and cool. What kinds of potions could I make? Could any of them be deadly or cause extreme illness? Could I erase someone's memories and make them think they are an entirely different person? If I could make someone fall in love with me with a love potion, then who's to say that I can't do any of the other things?

As Professor Slughorn continues to explain the process of the love potion, I realize that the ingredients are nowhere near familiar to that of baking a cake or mixing chemicals. He mentions strange and foreign herbs and other things that I'm not entirely sure _what_ they are, and I half believe that he's making this stuff up. He then begins describing how the love potion should look if brewed correctly.

"There should be a very distinct mother-of-pearl sheen to your brew, should your Amortentia potion be done well. If not, the effects may be dull or non-existent to your user," he explains.

"Now, here we _have_ an example of a perfectly brewed Amortentia potion." Professor Slughorn walks around a table near the front of the class, on which a small cauldron is perched and lidded. He lifts the top and immediately a waft slithers through the air. I catch its scent and am immediately drawn to it, but I notice I'm not the only one. Others who are closer have a stronger impact and are actually moving towards the potion. I wonder if they can smell the strawberry and flowery scent that I smell.

Professor Slughorn caps the potion once more and immediately the scent diminishes. The few who are drawn so close to the cauldron blush and slink back to their chairs. I notice one of the embarrassed kids as one of the trio of girls from the train, the girl with shorter blonde hair and a dark undertone to it. I remember Rowena mentioning her name as Giselle Goyle. I watch as Giselle self-consciously looks around, trying to pretend she hadn't been so vulnerable to the potion. The two girls around her, who I recognize as Tatiana Higgs and Kira Pucey, try to hide their snickers but their smiles leak through. Giselle shoots them a death glare.

"So!" Professor Slughorn claps his hands together. "Why don't we let you give it a try? I won't expect perfect potions, as it is quite difficult to brew, but why not give it a shot?" He turns towards me. "Mr. Cooper, you are welcome to try brewing a potion. Besides, the skill might be in your blood."

I immediately understand what he means by this, but everyone else, who assumes I've come from a pure Muggle family, doesn't. I shoot Professor Slughorn a dirty look, but he dismisses it.

"Mr. Bell, could you perhaps offer the kindness of assisting Aiden with the Amortentia?" Professor Slughorn asks, turning to Duncan. Duncan shyly nods and shrugs at me.

"So ... I guess if you need anything—"

"Yeah, I know," I mumble, interrupting him. I know I'm new to this whole magic thing, but give me some credit. I'd like to try something on my own before asking for help. I'm not a charity case.

Of course, I keep all of this to myself. I don't feel like ranting at the moment. I copy what Duncan does and then read the recipe for the potion on the board. I can't even pronounce the first ingredient. I sigh.

"This is going to be a long year," I grumble under my breath before asking Duncan for the assistance Slughorn predicted I'd need.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

The schedule for an average school day is weird. I've never been to a boarding school, so I don't know if the way times are scheduled are structured the same way as they are here. First is breakfast where we get our weekly schedules. We spend the next four hours in classes until lunch rolls around, and then spend another four hours in classes. Dinner follows and after dinner we're free to go to our common rooms. Students taking Astronomy meet at the Astronomy Tower at midnight and proceed with their class. Luckily Draco didn't give me that class, because I was _not_ going to stay up at midnight just to attend a _class_. That's what university is for, anyway.

After lunch, I have an hour of Transfiguration. Unfortunately, Rose and Rowena have the class with me, but I've got Duncan and Albus with me too. And, apparently the Slytherins have the same class too.

Rowena, as usual, is running her mouth, explaining to me what we do in Transfiguration. I figured the most part of it—the act of transforming something, as that _is_ what transfiguring is. She explains to me that they've transfigured objects to animals, and vice versa. They've studied multiplying individual objects. I asked about clones and she looked at me like I was crazy. I guess they hadn't studied that.

We walk inside the classroom. Cages full of animals circle the room and I wonder if we'll already start transfiguring animals. I look around the classroom. Slytherins and Gryffindors have already taken some seats, and I spot Kira and her friends are already seated with her Housemates. As my eyes linger longer, one of the voluptuous blondes, the longer-haired one, turns her head and her eyes lock onto mine. My eyes widen and I'm shocked to suddenly see her plump lips curl into a grin. Is she trying to _flirt_? I arch an eyebrow and I can't help but grin back. A bloody gorgeous girl grinning seductively at me? Hell, I'll take that any day.

Rowena pulls me along and plops me into the seat next to her. Dread fills my body and I'm wondering, annoyed, why she isn't sitting with Rose. Rose finds another companion to sit with at the table next to us, and Albus and Duncan take the desk behind us.

"You'll like this class," Rowena assures. "Professor Lingley is a brilliant teacher."

Class starts and I still don't see this _brilliant teacher_. I perch my elbow on the desk, placing my chin in my hand, a bored expression taking place on my face. My eyes linger back the long-haired blonde girl, Tatiana Higgs, and I remain staring at her, that is, until the doors from behind suddenly burst open. Everyone turns towards the back and my eyebrows narrow in confusion when I don't see anyone there. I wait and wait, but nobody arrives. And then I notice everyone's gaze as dropped to the floor, and they're tracing it until the return to the front of the room. I'm completely baffled and really annoyed. I follow everyone's gaze and then I suddenly meet the bright green eyes of a silky black cat, perched on a table in the front.

And then, the cat suddenly morphs into a woman. Shaking my head, I know I'm delusional.

"What the—?" I mutter. Rowena flashes a grin.

"Told you she was brilliant. She's an Animagus, a wizard that can transform into a single animal."

"But it takes rigorous training," the woman pipes, overhearing our conversation. I look back at her I suddenly realize how beautiful she really is. Rowena was right—I _would_ like her. Her face is youthful with almond-shaped emerald eyes, black hair parted down the middle pulled over one shoulder. Her skin is pallid and she tall and thin, her figured draped in loose robes that float around her majestically. She glances at me before a smile takes the place of her red lips. "You will learn many wonders of the magic world, Mr. Cooper, and what we wizards and witches are capable of. Welcome to Hogwarts."

She turns from me and begins to introduce sixth year Transfiguration, her smile disappearing and returning the firm expression she sported earlier. Rowena is leaning over the desk, so in tuned to Professor Lingley's introduction. It's hard for me to focus on what she's saying when I'm too busy staring at her lovely features. Her lashes are long and brush the tops of her cheeks and her figure is curvy, unfortunately draped with the loose robes, but not completely concealing her model form. She waltzes across the room, talking with her hands and making wide gestures, and sleek brown wand secured in one of them.

"Now, with my babbling aside," she says, pulling me from my studying of her, "I find it necessary to start the class with a bit of a review. Let's say an animal transfiguration into a goblet?"

"We learned this in second year, Professor!" Rowena reminds her. Professor Lingley taps her own head lightly with the tip of her wand, arching an eyebrow.

"That's why it's called a _review_, Miss Vane," she says. I smirk lightly before withdrawing my own wand. "The reviews will soon get harder, don't you worry."

I'm especially excited because this is the first time I've been able to use my wand all day. Most of the stuff I've done today really involved no magic at all. History of Magic was a total bore, only reading and writing (but the professor is a ghost, which was kind of fascinating yet eerie at the same time); Divination was just staring into a crystal ball and deciphering the fog inside it to uncover the future of my partner (apparently Albus is going to come across dark times but will overcome them triumphantly when he reaches his Auror status … whatever that means); and loads of other non-wand-using work. Now I get to experience some _real_ magic. I was getting more and more excited for this class to proceed already.

"Instead of busying ourselves with retrieving our animal companions," Professor Lingley says, "I will provide you with your source of transfiguring. Just be sure to return my little friends to their original forms, as I will need to return them to Hagrid after class is over."

So _that_ is why they asked us to bring either an owl, a cat, or a toad to school. I didn't quite like the idea of turning Bursty into a goblet, but maybe I could make him bigger and stronger and make him into a frog god. He could definitely stomp on all of the other animals at the school … and on Rowena's annoying curly head.

Professor Lingley waves her wands at selective cages and makes them levitate, much like how Professor McGonagall made the schedules fly out this morning. Cages of all types of animals—not just cats or owls or toads, although they are included in the variety—are slowly lifted into the air and settled on occupied desks. Kira, Tatiana, and Giselle get their animals before I do, and I notice the animals that they get. Kira receives a Gila monster, Tatiana next to her gets a white rabbit, and Giselle receives a falcon. To my side, Rose and her desk partner (who I don't know, but don't care to because she looks just as annoying as Rowena) both receive falcons as well. Duncan receives a monitor lizard while Albus gets a small tortoise. Finally, Rowena and I get our animals. Rowena is ecstatic when she sees the wired ferret in her cage. The cage that lands in front of me is a long golden-colored serpent, and it blinks at me, raising its head. I'm pretty pleased that I was honored with such a cool animal. It's better than a silly little ferret or a rabbit.

"Alright," Lingley calls the attention of the class, who are all buzzing over their new animals. "Let's review the spell for our new friend, Mr. Cooper. Now, Mr. Cooper, I assume you've been taught to hold your wand, am I correct?" she asks. I don't want to look like a complete moron but even though I haven't really been told—just a few tips from Draco, but they're slipping my mind at the moment—I nod my head yes. She smiles briefly with a nod of her own before proceeding. "Excellent. Now, when performing the spell, merely flick her wand gently and gracefully at your animal and enunciate the incantation, _Fera Verto._ Go on, class. Show him how it's done."

The class begins to buzz with the same words being echoed off the high walls of the classroom and I watch them flick their wands gently, just as Professor Lingley said. Baffled, I watch as all of the animals in the room are turned into glass goblets or medieval cups. The screeching and cooing of animals has been silenced. There's nothing else living other than the humans in the room and my brilliant snake.

"Very well done," Professor Lingley says to her old students. Everyone's gaze suddenly turns on me. "Now it's your turn, Mr. Cooper."

Rowena turns to me, her eyes wide with excitement. I roll my own, suppressing a snarl at her and focusing on my animal. I take a deep breath and position my wand like everybody else had. The snake's eyes suddenly lock on mine.

_"Malfoy,"_ a hiss echoes through my ears, and, for some reason, I know for sure it's coming from the snake, but I also know that it's obviously impossible for snakes to talk. However, this _was_ the fairy tale I was living now.

I scoff. "Huh. So even the animals can talk," I say. Rowena's eyebrows knit together. "What?" I ask her. "I mean, this is the 'magic world.' How could I be surprised that the animals talk as well?" I shake my head, chuckling.

_"Malfoy,"_ the snake says again, and this time, I realize what it is saying. It's blowing my cover! Now everyone I will know I'm related to Draco and the secret will be leaked. Everything will be ruined. I glare at the snake.

_"Shut up!"_ I hiss softly at it, scolding it. Rowena gasps at my side and, when I look up, I realize everyone's eyes are widened and they're murmuring amongst themselves. Professor Lingley's eyes narrow.

"What?" I asked, annoyed. I look back at Duncan and Albus; they're eyes are wide too. I'm wondering what the heck all of the commotion is about. So I talked to an animal. Couldn't everyone do that here, considering the animals could _talk_ in the first place? I mean, my Transfiguration professor was a bloody _cat_ for crying out loud.

"You … you …" Rowena stammers, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion as she shakes her head. "I don't understand."

"How is this possible?" Rose wonders beside me, caressing her bottom lip as her eyebrows narrow.

"How is _what_ possible?" I snap.

_"Malfoy … Aiden Malfoy!"_ the snake exclaims. I glare at it.

_"I said, shut up! Stop saying that!"_ I shout. Everyone immediately gasps and I'm suddenly taken aback. "What is going on?"

"Mr. Cooper," Professor Lingley says, appearing at my desk. Her eyes are shining with worry, and her firm expression is still extremely beautiful on her face. "Perhaps it would be best for you to come with me."

"Why? Did I do something wrong?" I ask. She smiles sadly at me, again very brief, before her face returns to its firm expression.

"The rest of you, return your animals to their original forms. Hold tight until I come back. I won't be long," she announces to her class before escorting me out of the classroom.

* * *

I return to Professor McGonagall's office. Professor Lingley still hasn't told me why I'm coming here, or what the heck happened in class. Why did everyone gasp when I told the snake to shut up? Was it some violation of peace with the animals or something? I am seriously so lost, I don't even feel like admiring Professor Lingley's attractive appearance.

"Professor Lingley," Professor McGonagall says with surprise. Her beady eyes immediately drift towards me and they slightly widen. "Mr. Cooper. What is the meaning of this?"

"Headmistress," Professor Lingley begins, "Mr. Cooper was talking to a serpent." Her voice is firm and cold, and she addresses the subject like it's such a terrible thing. I still have no idea what's so wrong about talking to a snake. _It_ talked to _me_. _That_ is what she should be concerning over; not the other way around. Besides, people talk to animals all the time.

Professor McGonagall's eyes widen to the size of dinner plates and she silently gasps. She shakes her head, puzzled. "No," she says softly, looking at me. "This cannot be. There is no … genetic trait in the Malfoy blood for that language."

Language? Now what the heck is she talking about? I didn't speak a different language … I spoke bloody English!

And what is she babbling about some genetic trait? God I'm so lost, I can't stand it.

"Somebody—please!" I shout, my patience breaking. "Tell me what the bloody hell is going on! What did I do that was so wrong?"

Professors Lingley and McGonagall exchange glances before turning to me. Professor McGonagall takes a deep breath.

"Aiden, my dear," she says gently, her wrinkled hands moving over each other. "The ability to talk to snakes is not a common one."

My eyebrows knit together. "What do you mean?"

"Not everyone can talk to snakes," Professor Lingley says. "In fact the only known living person who _can_ speak the language is Harry Potter."

"To speak _snake_ is called a Parselmouth. Parseltongue is the language," McGonagall explains. "To speak it you must be in relation to the Dark Lord."

"The _Dark Lord_?" I repeat, remembering the conversation this morning about some dictator who went by the odd name of _Voldemort_. Rowena said something about fearing he'd return, and the others thought that was ridiculous. Now I wondered if this superpower could possibly "come back" like she thought he would.

"The Dark Lord was an heir to the first Parselmouth in the world," Professor Lingley explains. "A Founder of Hogwarts—Salazar Slytherin."

My eyes widen. "Slytherin was a person?" The two professors nod.

"If you have the ability to speak to snakes, it means that you are also a descendant of Salazar Slytherin," says Lingley. "But, that's just it—another descendant of Slytherin is … well it's just impossible. The Dark Lord was the only heir, and he's gone. He had no children. Parseltongue should be an extinct language now."

"What about that Harry Potter?" I remind her. "Apparently he spoke it too."

"Harry Potter is a completely different case," McGonagall inputs. "He is of no relation to the Dark Lord or Slytherin. His ability to speak Parseltongue is merely because of exchange."

"Then maybe that's how I got my ability," I suggest. McGonagall shakes her head.

"No, no. This is exchange was far too complicated … and really shouldn't have happened at all. The thought of it is implausible. Such an exchange has not been bestowed on you. You would have remembered," she says.

"Well, what if I don't? What if I was told yet _another_ lie by my family and that some weird bloke came strolling along and granted me the power to speak to snakes?"

"It doesn't work like that, Aiden," Lingley snaps impatiently. "Fact is, you are a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, but we are trying to figure out how the bloody hell this has happened." She places her face in her hand and sighs.

"Landon," McGonagall says gently. "Perhaps you should return to your class. They need you, after all. I will handle this situation myself."

Professor Lingley reluctantly nods. "Very well, Headmistress." She turns on her heel and walks out of the door.

"We'll figure this out, Aiden," McGonagall says comfortingly, but her words do anything but comfort me. If this Parselmouth thing really is a gene that is passed down genetically, then that only means my family has lied to me _again_. The gene _had_ to come from Draco—it just _had_ to. Mum isn't from the magic world. She would _flip_ at the thought of speaking to a snake. It couldn't be from her. It just couldn't be.


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8**

Draco hadn't been lying when he said rumors did spread fast in the castle.

For the rest of the day, all anyone could talk about was the little incident between me and the snake. And, _they_ all know what the heck a Parselmouth is.

I've become more of a celebrity than before, all in the course of one day. When I walk into my next classes, murmurs begin to buzz about the classroom, and even the professors eye me queerly. I'm kind of liking the attention now, especially because Tatiana is even more attention to me.

When dinner rolls around, I'm bombarded with questions about me being a Parselmouth by my Housemates.

"Why didn't you tell us you were a Parselmouth?" asks Hugo, twirling his fork with an overload of spaghetti noodles.

"He didn't _know_," Rose reminds him, rolling her eyes.

"Maybe this has something to do with you being accepted into Hogwarts as a late student," Rowena suggests. "I mean, think about it—a Muggle-born suddenly becomes accepted into our school as a sixth year and turns out he's a Parselmouth? Doesn't that scream fishy?"

_"No,"_ I snap. "That's not what happened." Rowena's taken aback.

"Then why _were_ you accepted?" I look away, stubbornly.

"It's okay, Aiden," Rose says gently. "We're your friends. You can trust us."

"It's none of your business. Why do you all have to prod?" I growl.

"Relax, Muggle-born," scoffs James, rolling his eyes. "And all of you, stop poking your noses into his business. That way all of his yelling will stop."

"Piss off, Potter," I snarl. James raises his eyebrows.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Boys, stop it," Lily scolds. "Can't I enjoy my first dinner back without any fighting?"

"She's right," Duncan says. "Let's just all eat our meals in peace."

I glare at James before rolling my eyes and scoffing, stabbing my fork at the piece of lamb chop on my plate. We fall in silence briefly before buzzing chatter picks up around us again, but I don't include myself. Instead I think about the snake language. What a strange language, Parseltongue, and why only snakes? Could wizards and witches talk to different animals too? Were there different animal languages? I remembered what McGonagall had said before I left her office to go to my next class.

"Aiden," she called just as I was leaving for the door. "Don't talk to any more serpents." She'd said it with a firm tone, but I could hear the worry. I still couldn't completely understand why it was so wrong to talk to snakes if I was given the skill to. Was it because the power led back to the fallen Dark Lord? These magic people were so paranoid.

But I did as she said, and the rest of the day I didn't talk to any serpents, not that I went out of my way to talk to the first one—and, technically, he talked to _me_ first.

I continue to wonder how I could have gotten the gene, though. McGonagall assured me back in her office that it couldn't have come from Draco Malfoy, for his family of pure wizard aristocrats weren't descended from Salazar Slytherin, surprisingly (her word, not mine). I didn't believe her, though, because if this magic gene wasn't from Draco, then who else could it have been, since my mother was of no magic heritage? She said she would continue the research, but she continued to reassure me that the Parselmouth gene wasn't from my father.

But I _know_ my mother is not from the magic world. She isn't a descendant of this _Salazar Slytherin._ She's just a normal person.

A normal person who got caught up in an affair with a wizard. Knowingly.

I glare absentmindedly, shoving food into my mouth hastily. It isn't until Albus' voice chimes that my thoughts vanish.

"Hey, mate. Want to slow down?" he asks, concerned. I look up at him and notice his eyebrows are knitted together. A few others look at me strangely as well.

"Don't shove all of that into your mouth," Rowena scolds. "You'll choke!"

I swallow my food and shoot a dirty look her way. "Thanks, Mother," I say sarcastically.

"Will all of you shut up?" James snaps. "You're ruining my daydreaming."

I'm taken aback by his stupid comment. What the bloody hell is he talking about? And who the bloody hell does he even think he _is_ for telling me to shut up because I'm interrupting his _daydreams_?

"What?" I ask in disbelief. "Who do you think—?"

"Don't take it personal," Duncan sighs, rolling his eyes in James' direction. "It's just because of his not-so-secret fancy."

"I _do_ take it personal," I snide. "Who the hell cares about his bloody fancy?"

"_I_ do," James retorts. "One day, Kimi Nguyen will soon realize that she's destined to be with me."

Lily rolls her eyes. "You've chased after her since your first year and she's never taken an interest. Give it a rest, you hopeless romantic." James shoots her a dirty look.

"Well, she'll realize she's missing one thing in her life: me," James proclaims. I stare disbelieving at him.

"What is this?" I gape. "I thought this was a magic school, not a soap opera."

"It might as well be both," Albus mutters, rolling his eyes.

"I think it's rather cute that James is still lingering on hope. He's so devoted to Kimi," Rose says, smiling widely.

"'Course _you_ would say something sappy like that," Hugo scoffs. Rose glares at him.

"Who's _Kimi_?" I ask. "Or do I even care to know?"

"She's the most brilliant, beautiful, and amazing girl in the entire school," James says nonchalantly, producing a smirk. Rowena arches an eyebrow as she crosses her arms over her chest. Clearly she doesn't agree with James' statement, which I really want to laugh at her for.

"James has been in love with Kimi since first year," Lily explains.

"Is she in Gryffindor too?" I ask.

"No," Lily answers. "She's in Ravenclaw, and she's a half-blood—a witch with one magic parent, and one Muggle, or Muggle-born witch or wizard."

"She is brilliant, though," Hugo inputs, "and beautiful and amazing. I can see why James likes her so much."

"And she's also too old for you, so lay off, Weasley," James warns. "Kimi Nguyen is _mine_."

"Only by three years," Hugo says slyly, earning a dirty look from James.

His territorial behavior is really quite annoying. According to Lily, this Kimi girl doesn't even take an interest in James. He really is a hopeless romantic, the pathetic chap.

"Well, where is she?" I ask, slightly interested in this girl.

"She's over there," Duncan says, pointing towards the Ravenclaw table, the table separating the Gryffindors and the Slytherins. My eyes land on a petite girl, her hair short and black and sliced right below her chin in an uneven bob sort of fashion. She's facing my way and immediately notices my gaze on her, her dark eyes locking onto mine. She smiles shyly and looks away, but I can see her blushing from all the way where I am. My eyes widen. Is she normally shy, or just because I'm looking at her? She then goes to whispering with the two girls on her either side, occasionally stealing glances from me.

James glares furiously at me. "What? No bloody way! Are you serious?" he shouts. "Why is she smiling at someone like _you_?"

I smirk at him. "Jealous much, Potter?" I tease.

"Well, Aiden is sure out to make some enemies, isn't he?" Duncan mutters to Albus, who nods in agreement.

"He'll make one if he continues stealing glances from _my_ claimed girl," James snarls.

"She isn't your _property_, James," Lily scolds with an eye roll. "And, clearly she isn't interested in you. I know it sucks, but, come on; let's move on."

"Shut up, Lily!" James snarls at his little sister. I widen my eyes and expect her to start tearing up on the spot, but instead she glares furiously at him, just like James was glaring furiously at me, only little Lily looks more threatening.

"Relax!" I shout over the both of them. I roll my eyes. "I'm not interested in anyone, okay? I don't know anybody here. I still have to get used to this bloody school and all of its weirdness. So, chill out, Potter; I'm not going to 'steal your girl,' despite her not even being _yours_. Why do you need to be so possessive?"

James glares again, but he's speechless. I can't believe this has been all over a girl. It's so stupid. Magic school was apparently just like high school: full of drama. And the same drama, too. It's not even interesting, like including magic or curses or poisonous potions. No unleashing your pet dragon on the prat who's trying to hook up with your girlfriend instead of fist-fighting on a vacant lot after school.

Lily smiles gratefully at me, and Rowena seems a bit more cheerful since I announced I wasn't interested in this Kimi Nguyen.

"She is pretty, though," I mumble under my breath, hoping James will catch it, along with my smirk. He does, and Lily has to hold him back before he pounces over the table to wring my neck. I tilt my head back, laughing.

He finally settles back down, but the topic of Kimi Nguyen doesn't leave.

"It's so ironic, though," Rowena pipes. "James' father fancied Kimi's mother for quite some time." The Potter siblings all roll their eyes.

"Why—and _how_—do you even know that?" asks James in disgust.

"Mother's gossip," Rowena says with a wink. I roll my eyes back down to my food. With the topic of girls still on my mind, I daringly glance back up and shift my gaze towards the Slytherin table behind Kimi Nguyen, searching for a peculiar blonde. My eyes land on Scorpius and I mentally scold myself.

_Not that blonde, you idiot!_ I say to myself. Shaking my head, my eyes scroll across the heads of the Slytherins before finding who I'm looking for. Unfortunately, Tatiana's back is towards me, so I can't see her face. However, sitting across from her is dark-haired Kira Pucey, my possible half-sister. But I don't want to think about her. The thought of having a half-sister is so repulsive, especially knowing that I already have a half-brother. I'm supposed to be an only child, yet here I am, still wondering who else could be in my bloody family.

"How about Tatiana Higgs?" I question, my eyes narrowing while I purse my lips. My elbows are perched on the table, my hands forming a platform for my chin to rest on while my fork is entwined through my fingers, another pork chop pierced onto it.

"What about her?" Rowena asks, taken aback as she follows my gaze.

"You don't fancy _her_, do you?" laughs James, immediately forgiving me for my comment I made of Kimi.

"What just happened to not being interested in anyone?" asks Rowena.

"I never said I was interested," I say. "But I certainly am thinking it."

James bursts into laughter again, and Duncan and Albus exchange smirks, shaking their heads. Rowena and Rose narrow their eyes, looks of disapproval taking their place.

"Well, if you ask me, she's a complete moron," Rose mutters.

"However _she_ is what I'd call beautiful. Completely gorgeous," Hugo says, approvingly. "But you think you've got a chance with her?"

"Well, I _know_ she's a complete floozy and would rather spend her nights in other boys' beds than studying for her exams, at least that's what she's been doing the past couple of years," Rowena sneers, sticking her nose in the air. "Don't even think twice about her, Aiden. She's bad news, and her friends are all the same."

"Giselle is definitely just as bad as Tatiana," agrees Rose. "Kira's quiet, but she hangs around those obnoxious bimbos, so she's probably the same."

"I think you two are just jealous," Duncan snickers. "I mean, you two cursing one of the most attractive girls in this school?" He shakes his head.

"Duncan Bell, I will hex you into oblivion," threatens Rowena. "I'm _not_ jealous!"

"Neither am I," Rose pipes.

Rolling my eyes, I look back at Tatiana. I'm surprised to see her looking back at me, and she suddenly flashes that flirting smile. I return it with a grin. She's quite interesting. I disregard everything Rowena and Rose have said against her and am only captivated by her godly good looks. She giggles before turning around to her friends, murmuring amongst them. She giggles again and then stands. My eyes widen when I see her and her companions strutting towards me—well, Tatiana and Giselle are strutting; Kira looks as if she's being dragged along. I think about what Rose has said about her and, judging by her shyness and darker façade than the other two girls, I can't help but doubt Rose's beliefs about her.

Tatiana and her friends approach me. She's wearing a different smile, one that continues to flirt, but she appears more innocent about it. Rowena and Rose narrow their eyes at her. James, Duncan, Albus and Hugo watch with amusement.

"You're Aiden Cooper, aren't you?" Tatiana chimes, her voice smooth and perfect. I flash a grin. She appears amused.

"Yeah, that's me," I reply suavely.

"I saw your little incident with the snake in Transfiguration." My grin slightly drops.

"Yeah, who didn't?" I mutter.

"No, no!" she says quickly. "It was really fascinating. Your skill is quite impressive. We have a new school Parselmouth." She smirks, crossing her arms over her incredibly enhanced chest. My eyes linger—they can't help it.

"I, uh, I guess so."

"So, on top of being the new sixth year student, you become the school Parselmouth. You're really quite the celebrity, aren't you," she chuckles, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder. "So, how'd you get in to the school in the first place?"

"He doesn't know," Rowena pipes up. Tatiana's flirty gaze immediately turns to annoyance as she pierces Rowena with a glare. I do the same, turning to her with narrowed, disbelieving eyes.

_"What?"_ I hissed.

"I beg your pardon?" Tatiana asks. "I do believe I was talking to _Aiden_, not you, you bushy-haired sloth." Giselle giggles behind her. Kira smirks. Rowena is taken aback by her comment, but tries to maintain her firm expression. "I mean, honestly; your legs are so long you can hang from a tree with them and just stay there. I bet you'd be able to touch the ground too."

Giselle's giggle becomes an obnoxious snort, and Kira's smirk turns into a subtle cruel giggle. Rowena becomes insecure as Tatiana tears her apart. I actually kind of feel bad for her, but in a way she deserved it; nobody _was_ talking to her when she'd blurted out. And she's been so nosy in my business lately. I don't know what her problem is.

"Anyway," Tatiana says, returning her gaze to me, the flirty smile back on her plump lips. "We'd really like to help welcome you to the school, and to get to know you, mysterious new student." She giggled and winked. "You're welcome to join us during free periods. We're usually outside in the courtyard. It's a shame you weren't Sorted into Slytherin. You could have joined us in the common room, but, oh well." She shrugs.

"So, hopefully we'll see you soon," she says. "Oh, and, one last thing; it would be a lot better if you came _alone_ to the courtyard. We don't need any extra company." Tatiana glances at Rowena briefly before smirking at me and leaving.

"Well," James says. "That was quite eventful."

"I forgot to mention," Rowena seethes, "that in addition to her being such a floozy, she is also a complete _bitch_."


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

I must say that I am really getting the hand of this magic business, and, though I hate to admit it, it was really smart of Draco to assign extra magic lessons for me. We are already three weeks into the school year and I have risen to the standard of a fourth year wizard. Just a few more days and I'll be where I should be.

In addition to my new accomplishments, my fame as the school Parselmouth is still at its all-time high. The research for the mysterious Parselmouth gene is still going on, and the teachers keep a wary eye on me when I pass. I'm used to it, really—they're the same looks teachers from my old schools shot me because I was such a troubled student. However, despite how familiar these looks are, I see something different in their eyes. There's fear laminating beneath their stares, and that does disturb me a little.

Rowena and Rose are impressed with my newly-gained intelligence in the magic arts. Muggle Studies is exceptionally a breeze for me, as I have lived in the Muggle world all of my life. I also have a knack for History of Magic. I'm not sure why I have attained the greatest knowledge for two of the more boring subjects, and neither are impressive—well, except with Rowena and Rose, but those two I am not in any hurry to impress. I am struggling with Defense Against the Dark Arts and Potions, which bites because those are the popular subjects—the subjects girls are more prone to be impressed with. The only other person who enjoys History of Magic as much as I do, and isn't a part of the dreadful duo, is Duncan, who I have really come to grow fond of.

Duncan and Albus are really the only ones who have kept me sane here at Hogwarts, and amongst my classmates. They both have similar personalities—cool personalities, not bubbly or outgoing, and very collective. I've actually laughed genuinely around them, though only in our dorm room when we're alone and are free of the other buggers in our House. I still don't understand how the two of them put up with everyone else. Poor Al with his imbecilic older brother, and Dun with Rowena—I don't think I'll ever understand it.

In addition to my growing friendships with Duncan and Albus, Tatiana has been inviting me to join her and her little clique during free hours, and I've been agreeing, thoroughly displeasing Rowena and Rose, much to my delight. I believe Tatiana has seriously taken an interest in me, as she tends to flirt quite often when I'm around, not that I mind it. I fully embrace it when she giggles at my jokes and casually slaps my knee. In all honesty, I'm surprised she hasn't jumped onto my lap and snogged me to death, which is a bit of a disappointment.

Today is no different than any other day, in terms of how I spend my free hours. I don't get long free hours like the rest of the students do, as I have to spend half of my time in the extra lesson planned for me on my weekly schedule. But as soon as I finish with classes, I usually hurry towards the courtyard, where I find Tatiana, Giselle, and Kira lingering around a large tree with thick, low branches. They're always pleased to see me, too, which is uplifting.

As soon as I get out of my extra lesson of Potions (dreading the extra homework that comes along with it), I dart for the courtyard. With the autumn season still intact, the sun shines brightly, despite the chilling gusts of wind. Most of the trees around campus have lost their leaves, preparing for the winter season.

I spot Tatiana sitting with her friends, flipping her beautiful blonde hair over her shoulder, her plump lips spreading into a smile as she chats away. And then, as my gaze reluctantly wanders from her, I immediately spot Scorpius Malfoy, joined by Braxton Zabini, his ever-adjoining counterpart. My eyes narrow and I begin to back away, not interested in hanging around Draco's preferred son, but Tatiana calls out to me and it's impossible to make a smooth getaway. She's already seen me; no use in sneaking away.

"Aiden!" she squeals with delight, waving a hand in the air. "Where are you going, love? Come over here and join us!" She giggles to her friends, and Giselle also flashes me a seductive smile. Kira's eyes flicker in my direction, and when she catches my gaze, she quickly looks away. I've come to find that she's a little odd, and I still wonder why she hangs out with outgoing girls like Tatiana and Giselle.

Braxton and Scorpius exchanged glances and smirk in my direction. I'm repulsed by the royal air about them. It just makes them more annoying. I've come to learn that both boys come from rich families, both of pureblood witches and wizards, not a single Muggle in their family tree.

I force a smile at Tatiana, pretending that it was my intention to come towards her all along—well, it _had_ been my intention, before I spotted Zabini and Malfoy, that is. Tatiana beckons me to sit next to her. I lower my satchel onto the grass and settle down next to her. She sidles up next to me, stroking a long, thin finger up and down my leg which makes my pants tight. She's bloody gorgeous—how can I not get hard?

"How were your lessons today, Aiden?" she coos, batting her long lashes at me.

"Talk to any more snakes?" teases Malfoy, earning a chuckle from Braxton and a light giggle from Giselle. Kira stays put as her eyes wander off, gazing at anything other than our little circle.

I narrow my eyes at him before rolling them. "Aren't I talking to one now?" I sneer. Scorpius arches his eyebrows, taken aback. In fact, he's not the only one. Braxton and Giselle mirror his expression. Kira smirks softly.

"Aiden!" Tatiana exclaims. "You're so awful!" She's teasing, as her hands have lightly slapped my chest. She grabs for my scarlet and gold tie, shaking her head with false disappointment.

I chuckle at Scorpius tauntingly. "Relax mate. Don't you know I'm joking? Isn't your House representation a serpent anyway? That would make you all snakes, wouldn't it?" I laugh, and Tatiana laughs with me.

"He is right, you know," Tatiana agrees. "Maybe you should speak to us in that hissing language. It's quite … _alluring_." She leans her face inches towards mine, her lips parting sexily as her eyelids lower.

"Tatiana," Kira suddenly scolds, causing Tatiana to withdraw from me. She narrows her bright green eyes at her quiet friend.

"What?" Tatiana snaps, annoyed. Kira's eyes narrow into a glare.

"Must you be so open with your affection? Couldn't you be a little more _private_?" Tatiana rolls her eyes and purses her lips.

"Aiden likes it," she claims, and then turns to me. "Don't you, Aiden?"

I glance at Kira's highly annoyed glare. I remember it being the same glare she and her mother gave Draco and his family before the train to Hogwarts left the station. Scorpius was with them, and I recalled her being rude to him in the past as well. Even during meal times when we were sitting at our tables, Kira often times shot Scorpius nasty glances, and he'd returned them, perhaps as a bitter rivalry passed down from her mum and his dad.

I return my gaze to Tatiana and shrug. "I suppose this isn't the best time for displaying affection," I say tenderly. Tatiana pouts, but then nods.

"Then we will make time," she murmured seductively in my ear before gently nipping at my earlobe with her teeth. My eyes widen and she parts from me. I'm liking Tatiana a lot more than I did a few minutes ago. She's got me wrapped around her finger, I know it. I'm even upset that I didn't make it into Slytherin with her.

"Will you be trying out for Quidditch, Cooper?" Braxton pipes, shifting the subject entirely. My eyebrows knit together as I recall what Quidditch is. The national wizarding sport. Duncan and Albus mentioned it to me and also suggested I join the Gryffindor team, that is, once I formally learn how the game is played.

"I've considered it," I say honestly, "though I have yet to learn how to _ride a broom_, as you guys say." I still found it strange that the very clichéd concept of witches riding on brooms actually existed in this world.

However, I did want to try out. I wanted to learn how to use my new expensive broomstick.

"You definitely should!" exclaims Tatiana. "Quidditch is an excellent sport. My father is a professional Quidditch player, as is Kira's. I also have older twin brothers who play on teams as well."

"Do you play?" I ask. She shakes her head, chuckling.

"Oh goodness no. I, unfortunately, did not inherit Daddy's skills, like my brothers did. But Kira plays, and so does Braxton and Scorpius," she says, pointing to them. Braxton and Scorpius smirk in vain while Kira rolls her eyes at them. "Kira's Keeper."

"And Braxton plays Seeker," Giselle input, grinning at him. He arches an eyebrow and returns her grin.

"I'm Chaser, and I'm also captain of the Slytherin team," Scorpius brags, sticking his chin in the air. I roll my eyes.

"Well, isn't that just lovely?" I mutter under my breath.

"Join the Gryffindor team and it will be," Scorpius remarks, overhearing my little comment. "Zabini, Pucey, and I will kick your arse any day."

"Is that a threat?" I snarl, my fists clenching. Scorpius' lips parted in a taunting smile that I didn't like.

"Relax mate," he says, mocking me. "Don't you know I'm joking?"

"Can we leave?" I ask Tatiana with a sneer. She narrows her eyes at Malfoy.

"Now look what you've done. You've made him uncomfortable," she snarls. Her eyes turn to me with a much softer expression. "If you truly want to, then we can leave."

"Good," I mutter as I stand, gathering my satchel and slinging it over my shoulder. I extend a hand to Tatiana and she grasps it with a wide smile, her thin fingers curling over my hand.

She smirks at her friends, and my gaze scans over their smirks in return—well, Giselle and Braxton are smirking. Scorpius' lips are pressed in a straight line, his eyebrows narrowed. Kira is, once again, not looking in my direction, her arms crossed over her chest, a dull look in her eyes.

Suddenly, Scorpius' expression twists with confusion as he looks past Tatiana and me into the corridor.

"Father?" he calls out. My eyes widen and I immediately turn my head. Sure enough, Draco is walking down the hall, a black cloak billowing behind him majestically. Draco pauses in his step as his eyes search for his son. He smiles and nods at him. And then, his eyes unexpectedly meet mine, and I can tell that he isn't expecting to see me with his son at all. They slightly widen with surprise.

"Father, what are you doing here?" asks Scorpius, standing from the ground and brushing off his robes. The other three stand up as well, but Kira is, once again, looking elsewhere, however her eyes have set in a hardened glare.

"I'm here to discuss some business," he says, trying not to look at me, and it's then that I realize he's here because of me, because of my _ability_.

"Business?" Scorpius repeats. "What kind of business?"

Well, I was right about one thing. Scorpius was indeed a _brat_—prodding his father for information that's clearly none of his business. Stupid boy.

"I'm afraid I don't have time to be answering your questions, my son. I must be going now." He bowed his head curtly as a goodbye gesture, his eyes lingering on me briefly before he departed.

"That was strange," Giselle chimes. "What's your father doing here?"

"I'm not sure," Scorpius says, his eyebrows narrowing, but instead of darting off to probe for more answers, he stays put and shrugs, sitting back down on the grass. "Whatever it is, he'll tell Mother and me later. Must be Ministry business. You know how they're always sending agents here."

The rest of them nod, except for Kira and I. Tatiana then squeezes my arm.

"Now, you wanted to go somewhere private?" she asks seductively. However, that's not on my mind anymore. Rather than Scorpius wanting to figure out what his father was up to, _I_ wanted to go. After all, Draco is here because of me, therefore it is _my_ business to know what's going on.

"Actually, I just remembered that I have something to do in the common room," I lie on the spot. "Perhaps another time."

"But—what do you need? I'm sure it can wait. Stay here with me," she urges. God, she's pushy. Good thing she's pretty.

I pry her hands off of me and place my hands on her shoulders. "Don't worry. There will be another time. Tomorrow, perhaps," I say. She pouts as I turn on my heel and walk away, trying to departure casually before I'm out of sight and dart down the hall.

Draco is only a couple feet ahead of me now and he hears me running. He stops and turns and I slow my pace when I approach him.

"I never would have expected you to get along with Scorpius," Draco says lightly.

"I don't," I retort. "Now, you don't have to keep your little 'secret' from me. You're here because McGonagall called you, didn't she? This is about the Parselmouth thing, huh?"

Draco's eyes narrow. "Yes. McGonagall is concerned about you being a Parselmouth, as am I. I am curious to know how you got this gene."

"I know it was from you; do you think I'm stupid?" Draco's taken aback. "Well obviously I didn't get it from my Muggle mother! You're the source of this wizard gene, therefore the speaking to snakes thing has to come from you."

He shakes his head. "Well, no, Aiden. It couldn't have come from me. My family doesn't descend from Salazar Slytherin."

"Well _somebody_ must have! Perhaps a relative you know nothing about. It _has_ to come from you, though!" I exclaim.

"Look, we shouldn't be discussing this out here. We'll go to McGonagall's office together to sort this out," he suggests. I glare and fold my arms over my chest.

"Fine, but quit saying the gene doesn't come from your side of the family. Mum is from a purely non-magic family. She would have told me—" I cut myself off. She hadn't told me about my father being alive, or that he was a wizard; what made me believe she wouldn't tell me about a secret magic gene from her family?

"We'll discuss this in McGonagall's office," Draco assures, looking around as he begins to escort me down the hall. "Now, hurry—if Scorpius sees—"

"Still worried your dirty little secret will leak?" I scoff, rolling my eyes. "You're a pathetic excuse of a father."

"I'm doing everything I can," Draco snaps coldly. I roll my eyes again, shaking my head. I fall silent, and so does Draco, as we walk towards Professor McGonagall's office.


	10. Chapter 10

_Author's Note:_ I'm sorry I didn't get this out earlier, Brutie, like I said I would! D; I got caught up in other stuff, so now I feel bad that I didn't get this to you before you woke up today as a present. )': I will go and work on the next chapter straight away! Also, I hope it doesn't seem to filler-esque. /: Because, that's how I feel about it, at least the second half of the chapter. -sigh- Not on a roll, I tell you.

* * *

**CHAPTER 10**

"Mr. Malfoy, I'm glad you could come," Professor McGonagall says as Draco and I walk through the door. Her wrinkled face is plastered with worry, and then her beady eyes divert to me and they widen with surprise. "Mr. Cooper—I wasn't expecting you here."

"We ran into each other in the hall. Aiden has some concerns about this as well," Draco says. I fold my arms over my chest and narrow my eyes.

"Yes, we all have concerns," McGonagall says wearily. "Come in, both of you." She escorts us to her desk and two armchairs magically appear. I look at them strangely, but Draco sits in one casually.

"Rest assure, Aiden, that no one is against you in this situation. We are trying to find out where you are getting the ability to speak to serpents from," McGonagall says kindly. She turns to Draco. "You are absolutely positive that his mother does not possess this gene?"

I open my mouth to protest any idea that my mother might be involved in this, but Draco responds faster than I do. "I am," he responds. "When I told her that I was, in fact, a wizard, she appeared completely shocked, especially at the idea that Aiden would most likely become one too. She comes from a Muggle family."

"Are you positive? How about her parents?"

"Both Muggles," Draco says. Professor McGonagall sighs and leans back in her tall-backed chair, placing a frail hand over her face.

"Then, Mr. Malfoy, that would leave you—"

"You know my family," Draco interrupts sternly. "My parents would have loved nothing more than to be descendants of Salazar Slytherin, but they aren't." McGonagall nods in defeat.

"Yes, you're right," she says before looking at me with a look that tried to understand my situation. "But it has to come from one of you. The only person we know who isn't in relation to Slytherin would be Harry Potter, but—"

"What if another Parselmouth put me in the situation of that Potter man? What if he unintentionally gave me the gift as well?" I say, interrupting the headmistress. She shakes her head.

"No, it's not possible," says McGonagall. "Slytherin had no other descendants other than the Dark Lord."

"Well, apparently that isn't true, now is it?" I snap. McGonagall's eyes widen.

"Oh dear, you're right," she gasps softly. Her eyes dart to Draco. "Could there really be another descendant of Slytherin?"

"I would doubt it if I didn't know Aiden was a Parselmouth, but, with this current situation …"

"Why would someone give Aiden the ability to speak it? I mean, the only reason why Potter can speak Parseltongue is because the Dark Lord tried to kill him, and unintentionally gave him the ability as he failed to kill the boy," McGonagall explains.

"I haven't met anyone who wants to kill me, though," I say. "I think I would remember that."

"Harry Potter was only a baby when the Dark Lord tried to murder him," Draco says, "and he didn't remember it either."

"Could someone have tried to murder Aiden, then?" McGonagall asks.

"Celeste would have told me," Draco says. "She would have been frantic and she would have told me immediately, but I've never gotten such a message."

"Unless she's hiding it, one of Mum's many talents," I sneer. Draco narrows his eyes.

"Please, son, let's not go through this," he begs.

"Perhaps we should go to his mother for questioning," McGonagall suggests. The Ministry will want to get to the bottom of this as well. Kingsley will want to assist me, I know it."

"I will join you," Draco agrees. "She might be overwhelmed by all of the magic folk arriving at her home. I could be there to help calm her."

"And if there is another heir to Slytherin, then the Aurors will have to search for him. If he is an heir, he will most likely have the same intentions as Slytherin and the Dark Lord—of only letting magic belong to those of pure magic families. Another war is the last thing we need," McGonagall sighs. Draco nods.

"I will send a letter to Celeste, preparing her for our visit," Draco informs and McGonagall nods in agreement. She turns to me.

"We will find out who's given you this ability, Aiden," she reassures, as if I'm worried. Truthfully, the only reason I was worried was because I thought my mother was hiding yet another thing from me, although we have yet to find out if she knew some mad magic stranger tried killing me in the past. But at least Mum's magic status remains the same. She is a Muggle with no known magic family. I'm relieved she's off the hook for that.

* * *

I start my first broom-flying lesson today, but so do all of the other first years and, once again, I feel humiliated and pathetic, being thrown into a class for eleven-year-olds. However, at least I get to use my new broom, which all of the first years are ogling at. I smirk at them with pride, showing off the sleek mahogany broomstick.

A tall woman dressed in flowing black robes appears on the field of grass where we are instructed to wait for her. Her skin is copper and her black hair slickly pulled back into a ponytail. Her fingerless-gloved hands are clutching her own broomstick, a model of dark word and amber bristles, and I can't help but smugly think that I have a better broom than my teacher.

She is Professor Alicia Spinnet, former Chaser for Gryffindor back when Harry Potter attended school here, and I only know this because Duncan and Albus have mentioned it in the past while discussing Quidditch.

She approaches us crowd of students and narrows her eyes at us, her lips pressed into a firm line. It's only when she stops in front of us that her eyebrows arch and a coy grin spreads across her face.

"Hello, first years," she greets, glancing over the students. Her eyes land on me and she smirks. "And Mr. Cooper," she adds. I sheepishly look down with a scowl.

"The time has finally arrived for your first flying lesson," she announces, her voice strong and loud. "Well now, we're not just going to dawdle around. Lift your hand above your broom and, with a firm, commanding voice, call, _Up_!"

The first years around me do as she says, and they all fail in making their brooms rise. Professor Spinnet continues to shout at the kids to use a stronger voice, but even their stronger voices don't help.

I'm wondering why it's taking them so long to make their brooms rise. Professor Spinnet demonstrated after she realized the first years weren't getting the hang of it, and it appeared so easy.

I stick out my hand over my brilliant broom and bellow, "_Up!"_

The broom immediately rises in my hand, and my eyes widen with shock. Professor Spinnet sighs.

"Very well, Mr. Cooper. At least _someone's_ gotten the hang of it." She notices the first years staring at me in awe, and, again, I grin smugly at them. "All of you! As Mr. Cooper demonstrated, use a _strong_ voice! Come on!"

Gripping my broomstick in my hand tightly, for fear it might fly off without me, I wait for the others to raise their brooms as well. It takes a while, and I wait without patience, but they finally get the hang of it and, one by one, the first years' brooms are rising to their hands.

"Right!" Professor Spinnet says. "Now, all of you, mount your brooms"—she demonstrates—"and kick off of the ground, as such." Her feet lightly lift off of the ground and suddenly she's levitating in the air on a broomstick. My eyes widen in disbelief as I watch her sitting in the air, her arms crossed over her chest. The way she does it makes it look so easy and flawless. I'm actually very impressed, yet I'm still in shock about the entire flying brooms concept.

We mount our brooms. It feels weird. I feel childish. Only as a boy did I mount sweeping brooms and pretend to fly on them—little did I know that one day I'd be doing this again, but _literally_ flying on a broom. I'll admit I'm a little afraid to kick my feet off of the ground. I look around; the first years appear to be a little nervous too, so I don't feel completely idiotic.

"Go on! Give it a try!" Professor Spinnet encourages. "Grip your broom tightly—both hands!"

My hands squeeze the broomstick with all of their might. There is no way I am falling off this thing, especially in midair. With a heavy sigh, I shut my eyes tightly and kick my feet off of the ground.

And then, suddenly, as my feet try to search for the grass, I feel nothing. I open my eyes and realize I'm suspended in midair on the broomstick.

"Holy—!" A string of profanities filters out of my mouth unexpectedly and my breathing is heavy. The younger kids giggle at my language and my surprise.

"Mr. Cooper!" Professor Spinnet scolds for my swearing, but I can't help it. I'm flying! I'm actually flying!

Most of the first years begin to levitate as well, but some are still having trouble with it. Professor Spinnet goes to assist them as the other first years and I stay suspended in the air. She continues to warn us to hold on tightly, for she doesn't want to send anyone off to the hospital wing.

The longer I stay in the air, the more I begin to like it. I wonder why it was so easy for me to fly on my broom, why it was so easy for me to call my broom up while the others struggled. Perhaps I'm just a natural—or perhaps it's because my broom is so bloody awesome.

Unfortunately, the flying lesson comes to an end. Professor Spinnet orders us to come back to the ground, and I reluctantly obey. I'm definitely signing up for Quidditch now. And with my wicked broom, I'm sure Gryffindor will win every game.

Professor Spinnet praises us for our good work as we head off to put away our brooms. She approaches me, a smirk spread on her face.

"Very well, Cooper," she says, her arms crossed. "I was impressed with your quick adaption to flying, especially because you have no experience in the wizarding world. Your father will be proud."

I grin sheepishly. Referring to Draco as my father still makes me uneasy, but I nod anyway.

"Thanks," I say.

"And you've got a wicked amazing broom. The Sunstorm, eh? Put that to good use by joining Gryffindor's Quidditch team. You're a natural flyer, I can tell, and with you and that nice broom on the team, Gryffindor will have the Quidditch Cup in the bag for sure."

"You take sides?" I ask, considering she is a teacher and thinking it's incredibly biased for a teacher to favor a particular House.

"'Course I take sides!" She laughs. "Although, I try not to express my love for Gryffindor too much, as I am the Quidditch referee. But I'm a Gryffindor alum, so you can't blame me, can you?"

I shrug. "Guess not."

"Well, I do hope you consider trying out. And with your future flying lessons, you'll be ready to get on the field in no time." She smiles widely and claps a hand on my shoulder before walking off.

I follow the first years to the broom storage. They're far ahead of me already, but I take my time. My mind circles the idea of Quidditch. I vaguely understand it, so I'll have to have Duncan explain it to me again. Maybe, when he shows me, I can practice my flying too.

Excitement bubbles up inside of me, and, for the first time, I'm really happy to be here. I can't wait to fly again.

Suddenly, my excitement vanishes when I hear a voice, and when I can't depict where it's from, my eyebrows narrow with irritation.

_"Aiden,"_ it calls, the voice ghostly and eerie. I spin around and try to locate a person, but no one is around.

_"Aiden."_

"What?" I snap irritably. Honestly, if you're going to call my name, could you at least show yourself? Talk about rude.

_"Aiden …"_

"What? Could you bloody show yourself, damn it?" I shout.

I hear a chuckle, which makes me even angrier. Whoever they are, they're making fun of me. Well, I've had enough. Rolling my eyes, I storm over to the broom storage and delicately place my broom amongst the others cast inside. I would rather not leave my broom where anyone can come around and take it, or where other people carelessly throw the school-provided brooms, but I have no choice. I'm reassured by the staff that a protective charm is cast over the cupboard so no other students can get in without permission, but I'm still skeptical.

I place it inside and close the cupboard, walking away from the field and towards the courtyard. But, as I'm walking, I can still hear the faint chuckling from the ghostly voice.

_"Aiden …"_ it muses. Glaring, I pretend to ignore it and head to the Great Hall for lunch.


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11**

Duncan and Albus are pleased to hear how well my first flying lesson went. They pull me into a deep Quidditch conversation, which Hugo, Lily, and James are immediately pulled into, out of interest.

"James is Quidditch captain," Duncan explains. "He's Seeker."

"Just like Dad," James says proudly. I knit my eyebrows together.

"Dad was the youngest Seeker of the century back when he was in school," Lily says. "The Seeker position is the speediest. Your goal is to catch the little golden ball, the Snitch, to finish the game. In addition to catching the Snitch, you earn your team 150 points."

"I take it this Snitch must be fast then, if the Seeker's position is the speediest," I say. Lily nods.

"That's right."

"Then there's the Keeper position, which is Al," Duncan continues. "Al's job is to protect the Quaffle from our team's three hoops so that the other team doesn't get any points."

"Quaffle? Hoops?" I ask.

"The Quaffle is the main ball of the game," James explains. "It's big and red and you're supposed to throw it into the opposite team's hoops to score points."

"Oh. So, like basketball, right?" James shoots me a puzzled look.

"Basketball?" Hugo rolls his eyes.

"Never you mind, Potter. It's a Muggle sport," he says, then turns to me. "Yeah, it's kind of like basketball. Only, instead of dribbling you hold on to the Quaffle, as you can't dribble in midair."

"How do you know so much about the Muggle sport?" asks James. Hugo rolls his eyes.

"Are you forgetting my mum is a Muggle-born witch?"

"Anyway, with that aside," Duncan interrupts, gathering my attention again. "Lily's a Beater."

"My job is to hit Bludgers at people to distract them from scoring," she says proudly. As my face becomes puzzled again with the unfamiliar names, Lily quickly explains before I even open my mouth to ask. "A Bludger is a wicked nasty ball that flies around the court. They're tough, so you need to watch out for them. Don't worry, though; I'll make sure no nasty Bludgers come bolting towards you. I like to target them at people. It's really fun." She giggles like a deranged little girl and I stare at her strangely.

"Thanks for that, Lil," Duncan says with an eye roll. "Well, anyway, Quidditch teams have two Beaters, so Lily's partnered with another Gryffindor for the job. The last position is Chaser, and there are three of them on a team. That's my position." Duncan grins. "Our job is to try and score points. We fly around with the Quaffle to shoot through the opposing team's hoops." He places his elbows on the table, dangling a fork pierced with a piece of cantaloupe in his hand. "Chaser would be a good position for you. With your slick Sunstorm, weaving through the other players won't be a problem for you and we could score loads. What do you think, James?"

Everyone turns to James for his opinion. He narrows his eyes in pondering before beaming. "I agree. Definitely try out, Cooper."

"When you get more experience flying, of course," Lily adds.

"I've got flying lessons scheduled every day this week," I mention, trying to keep my excitement on the minimum.

"Oh good," Lily beams. "If your first lesson went as well as you claim it did, then by the end of the week, you might be good enough to try out!"

"When are try-outs?" I ask.

"A week from this Friday," says James. "Our first Quidditch match is November 1, so that gives us barely enough time to train. We'll have practices every other day. I want the first win of the year." He grins triumphantly.

"_And_ we're against Slytherin," Duncan inputs. "We _have_ to get this win. If we lose to Slytherin, it will ruin the entire year for us."

"We _won't_ lose to Slytherin," Lily says with an eye roll. "Slytherin isn't that good anyway. The only good one on that team is Zabini, but James' Seeker skills are far greater than his."

"So, Malfoy isn't that good of a player?" I ask, a smug grin slowly creeping on my face. Lily snorts.

"Are you kidding? Malfoy thinks he's so high and mighty just because he's captain of Slytherin. Honestly, I don't know why he's captain; in my opinion, Zabini should have that title."

"You only say that because you fancy him, don't you?" teases Hugo. Lily shoots him a death glare before punching his arm with force. He winces and scoots away, rubbing his arm delicately.

"I do _not_ fancy Braxton Zabini, you moron," Lily seethes.

"You _better_ not fancy Zabini," scolds James.

"Plus, he's too old for you," Albus adds.

I'm not quite interested in this quarrel between the Potter-Weasley family, and I hope the conversation shifts back to Quidditch. Duncan doesn't look too interested in the quarrel either. Tuning the others out, I approach the Quidditch subject again.

"So, when will I be able to see how the game actually works?" I ask.

"James can probably get Spinnet to let us use the field for a scrimmage game, just so you can see how it works. Spinnet must really like you if she pulled you behind to praise you individually. She's hard to please," Duncan says. "Besides, this will also be a good opportunity for you to meet the rest of the team."

"We'll have to get a note from Lingely, since she's our Head of House. Spinnet doesn't let anyone use the Quidditch equipment willy-nilly," James reminds. The excitement bubbles up in my body again and I can't wait to watch an actual Quidditch match.

"Let's try and do this tomorrow. Maybe we can get Hufflepuff to be the opposing team for our scrimmage," Lily suggests.

"Or Ravenclaw, as I'm sure James is etching to see Nguyen again," Hugo teases. James grins, but rolls his eyes.

"Sorry mate, but despite my deep devotion for the lovely Kimi, nothing distracts this captain from a Quidditch match," he says proudly.

"Either way, we'll find another team for the scrimmage. You really ought to see a match. They're fascinating," Lily says.

"However," Rose says for the first time since we started the Quidditch conversation. "You still have to be caught up with all of your homework and keep your marks up if you're going to join the team." She looks at me. "Quidditch practice is no excuse to not do your homework."

I narrow my eyes at her before rolling them. "Golly, thanks _Mother_," I snap. Rose is taken aback, but purses her lips.

"Aiden will be _fine_," Rowena chimes from the other side of Rose. "He's brilliant. He will have no problem keeping up with Quidditch and schoolwork."

For the first time, I think I actually might like Rowena, but just because she's said that. No other reason. She's still an annoying prune.

"She's right," Duncan agrees. "Aiden's brilliant in class. You've really caught on, haven't you mate?" He smirks at me, and I can't help but return it.

"You can say," I reply, trying to be modest.

"That's what James said his first year of Quidditch. He fell behind in almost all of his classes and was almost pulled from the team," Rose says. James glares at her.

"Rose!" he snarls.

"Well, that won't happen to Aiden," Rowena protests. "Right, Aiden?" She turns to me, and I nod. "Besides, perhaps _this_ was the reason why you were accepted into Hogwarts so late—because McGonagall knew you would be this brilliant." She smiles widely, flashing her set of pearly white teeth. I smile in return, but it's forced, even though she's showering me with compliments.

"Of course Aiden's brilliant," says a voice from behind me. I turn around and meet the luscious gaze of Tatiana Higgs. "He's a new student in his sixth year _and_ he's a Parselmouth. And now, apparently, he's a fabulous flyer. Can't get any better than that, now can we?" She smiles widely, her lips pressed together tightly.

"Last time I checked," Rowena pipes, "this was the _Gryffindor_ table. In case you're lost, you belong over _there_." She points over to the Slytherin table across the room. Tatiana narrows her eyes. Instead of shooting a remark that would play at Rowena's insecurities, she looks back at me.

"So, would you like to join me for the rest of lunch for a bit of some alone time?" she asks seductively, her fingers handling the collar of my shirt. My eyes widen and I gulp nervously. James is sniggering behind me.

"Aiden still has to finish his potions homework," Rose reminds and I shoot her a look of death.

"No matter," Tatiana says with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Kira, here, happens to be bloody brilliant at potions. One of her stronger subjects." She tilts her head towards Kira's direction beside her.

"I've already offered to help him," Rowena quickly blurts. I arch an eyebrow at her, and, as Tatiana notices it, she tilts her head back, laughing cruelly.

"You have _not_!" she exclaims. "Listen, Vane, I know you have a thing for Aiden." My eyes widen and Rowena's face flushes a deep crimson. "In fact, _everyone_ knows you fancy him. But—guess what? He's not into you. He's into _me_. Isn't that right, love?" she asks me. I stumble over my words, completely hating the position I've been put in.

"Well, I guess—" I begin, but Tatiana interrupts me before I can continue.

"Exactly," she says smugly. "So, stop trying to win him with your pathetic attempts of flirting, alright?" she says to Rowena.

I look at Rowena and see her large almond-shaped eyes glassy with a film of tears. I've never liked the girl, as she is incredibly annoying, but watching her getting eaten alive by Tatiana poking at her insecurities makes me feel bad for her. Really bad.

"Hey, Higgs," James pipes up. Tatiana arches an eyebrow at him. "If Rowena likes Aiden, then there's nothing you can do about it. You two aren't even a couple, so calm the hell down, got it?"

Tatiana glares at James as she squeezes my shoulder possessively. "We are now," she sneers. My eyebrows rise to my hairline. Wait—Tatiana and I are a _couple_ now? When did _that_ happen?

"We _are_?" I ask in disbelief.

"'Course we are, love," she giggles. "Now, come on. Kira will help you with your homework and we can spend more time together."

She pulls me up from the bench and wraps an arm around my middle, grinning smugly at my Gryffindor mates. I'm still in shock with what's just happened, I don't know what to say. I like Tatiana, and she has an incredible body with a gorgeous face, and considering a girl like her as my _girlfriend_, well, that's just brilliant. But the way she came out with it, and the way she treated Rowena … it was just so rude. Rowena didn't even deserve it this time. Tatiana had lashed out at her mercilessly. I'm not even entirely sure I _want_ to be with Tatiana at the moment, and, if I do go with her, then I know the others will give me cold glares later for not sticking up for Rowena.

So, I guess I'm stuck in what's considered a "pickle." Do I stay with the hot popular girl and lose all respect from my friends, or do I stay with said friends and keep respect, most likely losing the respect of said hot popular girl?

I turn my back to the Gryffindor table, allowing Tatiana's arm to stay wrapped around my middle, as the two of us, along with Kira and Giselle, walk out of the Great Hall, but a sinking feeling dropping in my stomach as I wonder whether I've made the right choice or the selfish one.


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER 12**

A Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook is open to the chapter of a war between vampires and werewolves, and is laying out in front of me. After I left the Great Hall with Tatiana, Kira, and Giselle, they decided that Kira follow through with helping me with my homework, so we headed to the library. Although, now that I'm here, I have to admit that I'm not getting much done. Tatiana is actually very distracting, and it's really annoying Kira.

"Tatiana," she says firmly. "Aiden isn't going to get any work done if you keep flirting with him while I'm trying to explain something. Could you please hold off on that for a bit longer? He needs to get this done."

Tatiana sighs and pouts, crossing her arms like a child who has just been told that she can't have a certain toy she's been wanting. Giselle rests an elbow on the table, placing her jaw in her palm while arching an eyebrow at Kira.

"Come off it, K," she says lightly. "Tia's only keeping him keeping him interested. Homework is rather boring."

Kira narrows her eyebrows at them before rolling her eyes. "Please, Tatiana, just while he's doing his homework—leave Aiden alone." Tatiana flashes big puppy-dog eyes at me, silently begging me to tell her otherwise. I smile.

"Kira's right. I need to do my homework. But don't worry, we'll spend time together," I promise. Her face glows with excitement as she squeals, grabbing the sides of both of my face before planting a long, tender kiss on my lips. My eyes widen before slowly closing, moving my lips against hers. Bloody hell the kiss is amazing. I almost take back what I say earlier, only because I want to spend my free time like this with Tatiana, but Kira clears her throat, interrupting us. I reluctantly part from her, and Tatiana's hands drop to my thigh, squeezing it gently. My heart pounds with ecstasy.

"We'll spend _loads_ of time together," she whispers seductively, her face inches from mine. "I'll give you the password to the Slytherin common room so you can meet me in my room."

"Tatiana," Kira scolds.

"Fine. Then give me the password to the Gryffindor common room and I'll meet _you_ there."

"You should really leave," Kira advises her. "You're distracting him again. You wanted me to tutor him, but I can't if you're here. This is all turning out to be a waste of time—_my_ time," she adds with annoyance.

"Alright, alright," Tatiana sighs. "Giselle and I will head back to the courtyard. She's probably hoping we could see Zabini." She arches an eyebrow at the second Slytherin blonde, and Giselle returns her look with a coy grin, her eyes narrowing. "Meet us there when you're done."

Finally, she and Giselle stand, and, with a peck on the cheek from her, the two girls leave the library. My eyes linger on Tatiana's model form, watching as her hips sway, and noticing how her long slender legs are mostly revealed, thanks the short length of her skirt. Apparently Tatiana doesn't adhere to the dress code, as instead of the expected loafers the other girls wear, she conforms to heels or boots. I wonder if she's ever been punished for not following the dress code, and if so, why she still resorts to her saucy appearance. Considering McGonagall's type of woman, I wouldn't expect her to let Tatiana wear inappropriate shoes or display so much skin because, in addition to her rolled-up skirts, she also likes to leave the first couple of buttons of her button-down shirts undone with a loose Slythern tie around her neck.

Don't get me wrong; the look is absolutely sexy and I love it on her, but I do question the authority over her. How does she get away with dressing like that?

Kira sighs from my other side and I turn back to her. Her dark eyes fall back to the pages we were originally looking at and she combs a lock of pin-point straight black hair behind her ear.

"Okay. As I was saying about the war," she says, and then continues her explanation. I'm supposed to be writing a two-page essay on the war, which isn't too bad, compared to what I get for my sixth year homework. And, as Kira continues to tutor me, I find that she's really intelligent and is very good at explaining things, so I am grateful for that. Pretty soon, I'll have this essay finished and then I can meet Tatiana as often as I like.

I've just started writing on my second piece of parchment when Kira suddenly speaks up, her voice straining to keep in a monotonous tone, but I can hear the curiosity.

"Do you truly like Tatiana?" she asks. I give her a strange look. What kind of question is that? Of course I like her. She's saucy and outgoing. What's not to like? Not to mention that she also likes me too.

Besides, what business is it of hers anyway if I truly like Tatiana or not? Maybe she thinks she can ask me a stupid question like that because she's Tatiana's friend—which I am still struggling to figure out why. Kira sticks out like a sore thumb when with Tatiana and Giselle, and not just with her appearance. She's quiet and reclusive, completely opposite of the two other girls. I wonder if Tatiana only lets her tag along with them because she's smart and can help them with homework, but that still doesn't solve the mystery of why _Kira_ sticks around with them too. She doesn't look like the type of girl to fall into peer pressure, and she doesn't fawn over Tatiana, begging her to let her hang out with them. Kira remains a very curious person to me.

I roll my eyes, shaking my head. "What's it to you?" I snap. Kira glares.

"You're right. What is it to me? I can't believe I even bothered," she mutters. My eyebrows knit together. Now I'm really curious. Maybe I should just answer her anyway.

"Yeah, I truly like her," I say. "Why wouldn't I? What kind of question is that anyway?"

Kira stares at me, her glare slowly lifting as her face is suddenly a mask of concern. My eyebrows narrow further. What's wrong with her? Or maybe it's something I've said, although I don't find anything wrong with my response. It was an honest response. Yes, I truly like Tatiana, and really—what kind of question is that anyway?

"It's nothing. I was just wondering," she says softly. She then glances at my parchment, noticing my barely written paragraph. "You should hurry up if you want to go to the courtyard."

I stare at her. She's acting awfully suspicious and I want to pry it out of her, but I have a feeling that I might lose this battle. I get the feeling that Kira isn't someone I want to argue with. After all, she's a skilled witch—she might pull a nasty curse on me, and I'd rather keep my face arranged the way it is.

Sighing, I pick up my quill and dip it in my ink bottle, continuing to write the rest of my paragraph. I've gotten used to writing with quills now. At first they were really difficult, and my handwriting was sloppier than it was with a pen. Now my script is somewhat decent, but I guess the most important part is that I have better control over the foreign writing utensil.

* * *

I dread going back to the Gryffindor common room, still slightly worried about how I will be treated when I approach Rowena and the others. Can I help it, though? I mean, this entire ordeal—is it really all my fault? I was meant to choose a side, and I chose it. To me it seemed right—I got an amazing new girlfriend out of it—but at the same time, I probably lost a whole load of people's respect. Although, Rowena has been really annoying. If she wasn't so annoying then perhaps I wouldn't have ditched them for the Slytherin girls.

I give the Fat Lady portrait the password and she opens up the way through the portrait hole. When I enter the common room, I immediately find the Potters, Weasleys, and Duncan. Rowena is probably there somewhere, but the boys are crowded around their usual table, so I can't really see anybody else but them.

I walk up to them, forcing a smile and mulling over an explanation. If they don't like it, then bollocks on them.

James is the first one to notice me walking towards them, and his laughing face is immediately replaced with a look of disgust. Soon, the others turn their heads, Hugo immediately frowning when his eyes land on me. Albus just shrugs and shakes his head, turning back to the table. Duncan's eyes are narrowed, his lips pursed, and though he's not glaring at me, I can read the hatred on his face for not sticking up to the Slytherin girls against their remarks about his close friend.

At this point, I don't even think my explanation is even good enough to try. Without stopping, I go up to my dorm and flop onto my bed, throwing a fist into my pillow with anger.

"Damn it, Bursty," I shout. "All of them are gits. It's not _my_ fault Rowena can't stick up for herself! Why do _I _have to do it?" I glance over at the water tank and watch as my warty toad bloats, croaking a couple of times before falling silent. I sigh and stuff my face into my pillow. To help me get my mind off of my ex-friends, I decide to think about Tatiana and that kiss she gave me in the library. As it turned out, I didn't finish my essay in time, so I wasn't able to visit her in the courtyard. All I can think back on is that kiss. I can even imagine her lips still on mine, warm and plump and soft.

Suddenly, the sound of someone entering the dorm pulls me from my thoughts and I jolt upright. My eyes land on the firm gaze of Duncan. I narrow my eyes and look away.

"What are you doing here?" I ask stubbornly.

"Did you forget that this is my bedroom too?" asks Duncan sarcastically. "Anyway, I wanted to talk about what happened in the Great Hall today."

"I don't need to talk about that. It's clear what you guys think of me now," I mutter.

"We're upset that you decided to side with the wrong people," he explains. My upper lip twitches in disgust. Tatiana isn't a _wrong_ person. She's the absolutely right one.

"I did what I thought was right," I say. "I had a choice, and I made one."

"Well, you see, that's just it; to us, you didn't make the right one."

"I don't think that's for _you_ to decide," I snap. "Who are you to tell me whether I make the right decisions or not?" Honestly, I thought Duncan was actually a nice guy. I guess not.

"We're your friends, Aiden, and what you did, well, it didn't just hurt Rowena, but it hurt all of us in a way. We felt betrayed," he says. My eyebrows slowly arch. "Rowena's the one suffering most, right now. She really didn't mean any harm—she was just looking out for you. She knows just as well as we do that Tatiana Higgs and her crew aren't the best people to hang around."

"And why's that? Because she's in a different House? Because she's ten times prettier than Rowena?" I snap. "Rowena needs to keep her nose out of my business. I'm tired of her trying to make decisions for me. I'm bloody old enough to make my own decisions."

"Look," Duncan says firmly. "Do what you want. I just wanted to tell you that we can forgive you, but only if you can apologize to Rowena for allowing Tatiana to lash out on her like that. You made no effort to stop her."

"Why do _I_ have to make the effort? None of you said anything either!"

"That conversation was all about you, Cooper, don't you get it?" Duncan's tone becomes more frustrated and impatient. "They were fighting over _you_. What business did any of us have to jump into that conversation?"

"Right then, so what business do you have being mad at me?" I shoot back.

"Rowena's our friend, that's why."

"That's not a good enough excuse." I glare. "Rowena needs to learn to toughen up. If she hates Tatiana so much, then she needs to learn to fight her own battles against her, and that means telling her off just as much as Tatiana tells Rowena off. _I'm_ not going to volunteer to be her bodyguard. _You_ can do that if she's so special to you, but she's not that special to me. I barely know her, and all that I do know is that she's extraordinarily annoying. Besides, why would I want to stand up to Tatiana anyway? I like her." Duncan glares back at me in disbelief. "She's sexy and she likes me too."

"So, that's all you care about? How pretty a girl looks?" Duncan asks with disgust. "You know what? Fine. Don't apologize for being a bloody idiot in the Great Hall, but good luck gaining friends. And good luck getting on the Quidditch team now. Whether you're good at flying or not, James does choose favorites, and if you're not on his good list, then you can say goodbye to the team."

Duncan turns on his heel and walks back to the door before he suddenly stops. He turns his head over his shoulder, disappointed eyes leering at me.

"Have you really fallen under Higgs' spell?" Duncan asks in disbelief. "Do you really think she's a good person?"

"What kind of question is that?" I snap, taken aback. What is it with people asking me about my feelings for Tatiana? How the hell is it any of their business?

"It's too bad, really," he sighs. "I was actually growing fond of you. I thought you would be smarter than to only chase after girls who flash you a pretty smile."

"You don't know Tatiana at all," I seethe. Duncan faces me and tilts his head back, laughing humorlessly.

"_I _don't know Tatiana at all? Are you forgetting that I've been going to the same school as her for the past five years?" He shakes his head and narrows his eyes. "I'll tell you one thing, Aiden. I know Tatiana too well, and I can assure you that she is not someone you want to affiliate yourself with. There is a reason why Rowena so passionately hates her."

"You mean other than her being prettier than her?" I snort.

"I'm serious, Cooper," Duncan snaps. "Tatiana isn't a good person. She's downright cruel … a real 'mean girl.'"

"Well, obviously you don't know her the way I do," I defend, rolling my eyes.

"Did you _not_ just witnessing the rude outbreak in the Hall during lunch today? You don't realize how cruel she really is because you're blinded by her beauty, and _that_ is truly pathetic."

"So, what are you saying? That I should stop hanging around her, because that won't be as easy as you think it is," I say.

"Why shouldn't it be? Just stop following her around like a lost puppy," Duncan suggests, but he doesn't know what I really mean, that I'm actually her boyfriend. And, sure, boyfriends are supposed to stand up for their girlfriends, aren't they? However, as Duncan continues to tell me what kind of person Tatiana really is, my mind is thrust into a whirlwind of confusion. I think about that afternoon in the Great Hall, the kiss in the library, Kira's weird questioning, and Duncan's comments now. I don't know what to do now and I squeeze my eyes shut, running my fingers through my hair. Too much drama … I'm really hating it. Because, on top of finding out I'm a love child and a fluent speaker in a supposedly-extinct language, my new girlfriend happens to not pass with my friends. This is all ridiculous.

"It's … complicated," I say.

"No, it's not," Duncan assures sternly.

"Yes, it is!" I shout. "Because she's my new girlfriend!"

Duncan's eyes are wide and his jaw drops. I can tell he's not only surprised but disappointed as well. This is obviously not okay with him.

"Well," he finally says. "That is a problem."

"I like her, though," I say. "She's not who you say she is." Duncan shakes his head and turns his back to me. The conversation is over. I know it.

"If you want to trust me on anything," Duncan says with a sigh before grasping the doorknob, "then trust me on this. She is not the person _you_ say she is. I promise you."

He walks out the door after that and an empty pit forms in my stomach. Great. Just great. What the bloody hell was I supposed to do now with myself, or with Tatiana? Would I leave her because of Duncan's warning, or would I ignore it and continue my merry way with her and her kisses? The saying did go ignorance is bliss, but would it really be?

I fall on my back, my head sinking in my pillow, arms flailed out and hanging off of the sides of my bed. I'd sleep on this, hopefully coming up with a decision in the morning. The subject is too tiring.

I truly hate high school.


	13. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER 13**

The crowds are bustling with students rushing to get to class, first years darting by me like human-shaped Snitches. Scowling at them for being so pushy, I readjust the strap of my satchel and continue on my way towards Potions, expecting to sit alone again.

The Gryffindors haven't lightened up since that day I let Tatiana insult Rowena to the core. Duncan and Albus _sometimes_ talk to me, but I get the feeling that they just force themselves to so that nothing is awkward in our dorm room, although it isn't helping. They don't really find anything I say interesting anyway, so it's no use trying to pick up a conversation with them. Rowena, Rose, James, Lily, and Hugo are worse. They pretend I don't even exist. I guess it's better than being constantly teased and insulted with crude remarks, but I don't really appreciate not finding a seat at the Gryffindor table where my friends sit. I've been forced to sit alongside the second years, who won't stop babbling about my Parselmouth abilities. Instead, I tune _them_ out and pretend _they_ don't exist while I pick at my food.

I guess not having friends in the first place was a bad thing to wish for. I've grown up alone, but being here at Hogwarts I feel a small ounce of belonging. I've been accepted to a school that enhances the hidden talent inside me, a talent that is extraordinarily exclusive amongst certain people. And though I was skeptical and disliking the new arrangements of my education (only because Draco and his son were involved), the truth is being here gives me a sense of belonging, and I like that. Before I always told myself that I never cared for friends, but meeting Duncan and Albus and the rest of the Gryffindor gang, I realize that not caring for friends is the biggest lie I ever told myself.

I sigh and shake my head, narrowing my eyes as I push through the crowds. Suddenly, I feel a hand on my shoulder and I whip around, meeting face to face with Tatiana's wide smile and glistening eyes. Her shimmering blonde hair is bouncing in their large natural curls along her chest, always reminding me of a 1950's pin-up girl. Being with her usually made me feel better, but considering she was the reason I don't have friends anymore kind of make me think otherwise.

"Hello, love," she murmurs seductively, running the buds of her fingers over my lips.

I produce a smile in return, just to be polite, but I also really like the touch of her skin against mine.

"Hello to you, too," I reply.

"You promised me a day we'd spend together," she says softly. "Why not we spend it now?"

I knit my eyebrows together. "But we have Potions," I remind her. She gives me a look questioning whether she cares or not.

"It's just _one_ day," she persuades. "Besides"—she leans into me, her chest pushing against mine and I feel my heart racing—"everyone knows you're brilliant anyway."

My breath catches in my throat as I watch her eyelids lower, her lips parted slightly, her fingers grazing my jawline. It takes me a while to reply, but I do.

"Alright," I agree. "What's _one_ day?" Her wine-colored lips pull into a fascinating smile as she squeals with delight. She grabs a hold of my hand and pulls me out of the corridor, her curls bouncing behind her. She leads me towards the more desolate areas of the castle, walking through an empty corridor. She presses her back against the stone wall, pulling me over her by the hems of my robes, her fingers clutching the cloth tightly as she pulls me down onto her lips, moving with them with such control and eagerness. My lips comply without even my consent, but they don't need it anyway. Tatiana's kiss overwhelms me and my body electrifies.

I place my hands on either side of her on the wall, hunching over her, moving my lips with more vigor against hers. She giggles and her hands move to cup my jaw briefly before dropping to my chest, hastily untying my tie and untucking my shirt from my pants. It shouldn't surprise me how fast Tatiana wants to move, but it does. We've only been a couple for a week, and already she wants to start undressing me. To be honest, I wouldn't mind seeing what she looked like underneath her clothes either, and I'm willing to be she'd be more than happy to show me.

My hands fall from the wall, one pressing against her back, arching her towards my body, while the other entangles itself in her hair. My tongue slithers across her teeth, silently asking for entry, and she immediately agrees, opening her mouth wide for my tongue to fit, easily finding hers. They dance with each other, just like our lips do, and I hear her moaning softly, the sound muffled by our attached lips.

_"Aiden …"_ I hear her say.

"Hmm …?" I ask, my lips still moving quickly with hers.

_"Aiden …"_ she says again, and this time I part, though our faces are centimeters apart.

"What?" I murmur.

"Huh?" she groans, tracing the shape of my collarbone with her fingers before sliding them down to trace the lines of my chest through my sweater.

My eyebrows knit together in confusion. "You said my name," I say. She giggles.

"No I didn't, silly. But if you want me to say it, you'll have to treat me really good," she seduces.

_"Aiden …"_ My eyes narrow into a glare as I back away.

"Seriously, Tatiana. What is it?" I snap. Tatiana is taken aback.

"What are you talking about? I'm not saying your bloody name," she retorts.

"You have to be! There's no one else here!"

_"Aiden …!"_

I realize, then, that she's telling the truth, because, as soon as I hear my name again, I'm watching her lips, and they're not moving. They're pressed into a firm frown while her green eyes narrow at me, annoyed.

I shake my head, looking around. "Damn it," I mutter. "It's happening again."

"What is?" she asks. "What's going on?"

_"She's here …" _the ghostly voice says. _"Dirty blood … dirty blood! That nasty-blooded woman is here …!"_

"Who is?" I say aloud.

"What?" Tatiana asks, but I ignore her.

"Who's here?" I ask again.

_"Dirty … blood … Kill her … Traitor … Mudblood! Kill her!"_

"Who? What are you talking about?" I shout at the voice, but it's faded away and doesn't return.

"Aiden! What the hell are you talking about? What's wrong with you?" Tatiana snaps.

"I need to go," I say to her. Her face twists with annoyance.

"What? No! Tell me what's going on! Why are you acting like a bloody lunatic?" She grasps onto my arm, pulling me towards her.

"Shut up! And let go of me, will you?" I snarl at her, shaking her off forcefully. She stares, wide-eyed at me, with a look of disgust.

"How _dare_ you speak to me that way!" she screeches. "You tell me what is wrong with you, damn boy, or so help me I will _get_ it out of you!"

I glare at her, gritting my teeth. I've had enough.

_"You stupid wench!"_ I seethe. Tatiana is taken aback again, her expression stunned.

"What did you say?" she asks incredulously.

_"You heard me," _I snarl.

"Speak English!"

"I _am_ speaking English, you idiot! God, how have I put up with you? You are such a stupid girl! Now, leave me _alone_!" I holler.

Tatiana is stunned in silence, and I can see her green eyes are glistening with tears. Immediately, I regret what I've said and I feel terrible. Then again, she was being so pushy! It was none of her business, and, right now, I needed to follow that ghostly voice, and I couldn't have someone hanging on me like a puppy as Tatiana would have. I needed to be alone.

"You make me sick, you bastard," she hisses before turning on her heel and running away, the heels of her pumps echoing off of the tall stone walls. I sigh heavily. Duncan was probably right about her. I don't think she is the girl for me. She would have understand my need for being alone, even if she fully comprehend the reasoning, but Tatiana was like a child, wanting to know everything going on and whining that I wouldn't tell her. How had I not seen that before? Had her beauty really blinded me from such an ugly and annoying personality?

Well, as soon as I get back to the Gryffindor common room, I'd have to apologize to everyone, and the first person would be Rowena Vane for being a complete arse for letting Tatiana be a bitch towards her.

I walk down the corridor, softly speaking out to the voice, asking it what it's talking about, but it doesn't answer me. I'm slightly scared, only because of it mentioning wanting to kill someone, a Mudblood. I'd come to learn how foul a name Mudblood actually is in the wizarding world, and by this voice calling the one it wanted to kill a Mudblood meant that there was a Muggle-born that it wasn't fond of.

Gulping, I change my course of direction and dart for Professor McGonagall's office. I need to warn her about the voice and its intentions. Suddenly, my run slows to a steady walk before I stop completely. Telling her about the possible danger of a Muggle-born would mean I would have to confess to hearing the voice in the first place, and I hadn't told anyone about it. Was it uncommon for wizards to hear voices? After all, ghosts roam the castle corridors casually, so how much different is it to hear a phantom voice? The thought doesn't settle, though, but I know that I need to tell someone. It was really important, especially if someone's life is at stake.

I pick up my pace again and head towards the headmistress' office. Giving the guarding gargoyle the password, it suddenly moves out of the way, granting me entrance, and I race up the stone stairs. When I reach the door, I don't bother to knock because of the drastic news, but as soon as I burst through the door, my body freezes, eyes wide with shock.

Mum and Grandmother Eracebeth are sitting in front of Professor McGonagall's desk. Draco is standing next to Mum, while a tall, black man stands next to the headmistress.

My eyes narrow with puzzlement while everyone's gaze turns to me, having been interrupted by my outburst. Mum's eyes widen and she reaches out towards me.

"Aiden!" she exclaims. "Oh sweetheart …"

"What's going on?" I ask.

"Aiden, dear, perhaps it is a good thing you are here. Please, come join us," Professor McGonagall says. I glance at my mother, whose face is smiling.

"Does this have to do with the Parselmouth thing?" I ask, looking at everyone's faces as I walk towards them. My mother stands and gives me a tight hug, and I hug her back. When I part from her, Grandmother reaches her wrinkled hand and grasps mine tightly, flashing a faint smile too.

"As a matter of fact, Mr. Cooper, it does," says the black man. He extends a hand over McGonagall's desk towards me. "Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister of Magic," he introduces. I shake his hand and nod.

"We've been discussing the possibilities of where your ability to speak to serpents could have come from," explains McGonagall.

"Right now as we speak, Aurors are scouring both the Muggle and wizarding environment, particularly in your neighborhood, Aiden," says Shacklebolt. "If there is any possibility of another heir of Slytherin, then an investigation must be in order. We thought we had rid of ourselves of those in loyalty of Dark forces, but if not, then something must be done."

"You two are absolutely positive there is no magical gene in your family at all?" McGonagall asks my mum and grandmother.

"Most certainly," Mum says with a firm nod. "I've never heard of magic actually existing until Draco told me." She glances at him and his eyes drop to the ground, his eyebrows knitting together in concentration.

"Very well. We will take your word for it," Shacklebolt says.

"How could have a Dark wizard gotten to you without my knowing?" she asks me softly, cupping my jaw from her seat. "I feel as if I have failed you as a mother."

I don't mention the fact that she hid my father's existence from me all of these years, because I know that will make matters worse, so I place my hand over Mum's and smile faintly.

"That's impossible, Mum," I reply.

"Aiden," Professor McGonagall suddenly says. "You burst in here quite alarmed. Was there something you wanted to say?"

I look around and gulp. I don't exactly want to announce I've been hearing voices in front of everybody, for fear that it is yet another thing to be alarmed about. Besides, Mum and Grandmother look distressed enough considering the fact that I can speak a language that should be well extinct. However, I don't want to keep the news from Professor McGonagall for much longer, in case the voice decides to act soon.

"Um, it's nothing, really. Just something I wanted to discuss regarding my classes," I improvise.

"Speaking of which, shouldn't you be in class now, Aiden?" Draco asks suspiciously. I glower at him.

"Well, considering that I had a question for the headmistress, I was dismissed from class," I sneer through gritted teeth.

"I hope you're doing okay in your classes, sweetheart," Mum says. "Is there anything wrong with your schedule?"

"Er—no," I respond. "It's really nothing, like I said. But would you mind me lingering a little while after this is over? I'd like to talk to you, Professor."

I try sending her a message through my eyes expressing that what I really want is to talk to her in private. Luckily for me, she understands right away.

"Yes, of course, Mr. Cooper. Mr. Malfoy," She turns to Draco, "would you please escort Miss and Madam Cooper out to the courtyard for some fresh air? I'm sure the entirety of this conversation has really overwhelmed them."

"We're fine, really," says Grandmother. Professor McGonagall smiles kindly at her.

"I very well hope so, Madam Cooper, considering the severity of this topic, but I know the crisp air of the grounds will surely do you well. Mr. Malfoy …" She gestures towards the door to her office and he reluctantly nods, obviously wanting to know what I want to say as well. I'm sure he would do anything to stay and hear my concern about classes, as he did pick them out for me, but, unbeknownst to him, the concern about classes is a lie anyway.

After Mum, Grandmother, and Draco leave, Professor McGonagall offers me a seat.

"I hope you don't mind Mr. Shacklebolt staying with us," she says. "I figure this topic you are about to bring up might need to be heard by the Minister himself."

I gulp and, gathering my courage, I nod. I'm embarrassed and nervous to admit to these voices, but it's extremely important for them to know.

"Someone is going to kill a Muggle-born," I say. Both Shacklebolt and McGonagall are stunned.

"I beg your pardon?" McGonagall blurts.

"How have you gathered this?" Shacklebolt questions.

"Someone … _told_ me," I continue slowly.

"Who?"

"Well, that's the thing … I don't know," I say. The adults knit their eyebrows together in puzzlement. "There … there's a voice in my head that keeps talking to me. I mean, it doesn't pick up a conversation with me—all it really says is my name over and over again, and it's really quite annoying," I ramble, but as soon as I realize I'm rambling, I clear my throat and get back on track. "But today while I was in the hall, it told me there was a 'nasty-blooded woman' here, that she was a Mudblood and a traitor. It repeated the words 'dirty blood' numerously," I add before sighing heavily. "And then it said it wanted to kill her, I'm assuming because she was of Muggle-born status."

Shacklebolt and McGonagall exchanged solemn looks, fear twinkling in both of their eyes.

"One event leads to another, so it seems," Shacklebolt says softly.

"Do you know what this means, Kingsley?" McGonagall murmurs, shaking her head.

"Yes," he replies solemnly.

"What's going to happen?" I ask. "What are you guys going to do?"

"Mr. Cooper," Shacklebolt says. "It appears that a meeting with the Ministry's best Aurors is due."

"We will have to arrange a gathering with a man who is very much like you; a former student of this school who has more things in common than you realize," says McGonagall. "Harry Potter."


	14. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER 14**

I enter the Great Hall for breakfast later than usual. When I had left my dorm room, the common room was practically empty, so I assumed I was one of the last people to leave Gryffindor Tower. I walk towards my table and see my former group of friends chatting amiably amongst each other. I'm genuinely hoping they forgive me after I apologize about Tatiana, and I'm hoping the little tidbit about the two of us breaking up will help with my forgiveness too.

I take a heavy breath and walk towards them. I don't bother looking over at the Slytherin table, for I know I won't be greeted with Tatiana's flirty smiles anymore. But I don't care. I just want my friends back.

When I approach them, Duncan and Albus stop talking immediately and look up at me. The others continue talking, as if I'm not there. I clear my throat, but even that doesn't help me gain their attention. Duncan narrows his eyebrows and purses his lips. He sighs heavily before nudging James in the side, nodding his head towards my direction. James looks up at me. It's the first time he's really looked at me in a week, and his gaze is cold, his once-smiling lips pulled into a heavy frown.

"What's that prat doing here?" he sneers, curling his lip in disgust. I refrain from snapping back with an even more rude remark, as I am here to make amends with them, not get into a fight. "Doesn't he know he's not welcome here?"

"I've come to apologize," I say, stuffing my hands in the pockets of my robes, "particularly to you, Rowena." I look her straight in the eye. She nibbles on her bottom lip briefly before she looks away, but I continue anyway. "It was really awful of me to just let Higgs talk to you the way she did. You didn't deserve that. I was a complete arse for letting that carry on. So, I'm hoping you'll forgive me. I'm hoping _all_ of you will forgive me. I promise I won't let any girl, particularly a bitchy one, get in the way of my friends."

"So, you're finally apologizing for your girlfriend?" Lily snaps.

"Actually, Higgs isn't my girlfriend anymore. We're through. I realized what a complete bitch she really was and laid it on her." Lily raises her eyebrows, surprised, and she isn't the only one.

"You broke up with her?" asks Albus. I nod.

"She's such an idiot," I scoff, shaking my head. "And _I'm_ such an idiot for not seeing past her looks. You two were right"—I look at Rose and Rowena—"she _is_ a complete bitch."

I smile crookedly, which then makes Rowena crack a small smile in return before she giggles softly.

"Thank you, Aiden," she says. "Apology accepted."

I can feel the relief crashing against my chest, but it's not over yet. It's like there is something containing it from releasing throughout my entire body. I have one forgiver, the most important one might I add, but I still need the rest of them. I glance about the others. Duncan and Albus exchange looks and they both smirk at me. My face lightens at their silent message of forgiveness. The others exchange looks with each other as well before turning back to me. Lily nods.

"Alright Aiden. We forgive you too," she says. I beam and the relief finally releases, washing over me like a tidal wave. Hugo and Rose make room for me at the table and I sit between them, sitting across from Rowena, who's smiling widely. I'm actually happy to see her bright set of white teeth for once, and I smile widely in return. I've got my friends back.

As breakfast progresses, I join in the chatter with my once-again group of friends, happy to be away from the annoying second years who don't stop fawning over my Parselmouth abilities. I pile food onto my plate eagerly, so relieved to finally be back where I belong. I don't even bother glancing back at the Slytherin table. I'm through with all of them over there. Tatiana, Giselle, Scorpius, Braxton … the whole lot of them. And then I remember Kira, thinking about how her difference between all of them really stood out to me. She isn't weird at all—in fact, amongst all of them, she's the best one. I wonder if my breaking up with Tatiana will affect the relationship between the two of us, and then I wonder if I really care. I have loads of smart friends here in Gryffindor—do I really need Kira from Slytherin?

Shaking my head to get rid of the thoughts, I stuff my mouth with a forkful of scrambled eggs.

"So," I pipe, wiping my mouth with my sleeve. The others turn to me, waiting for what I have to say. I missed this, the feeling of wanting to be listened to. I realize I'm absently smiling before I clear my throat. "I've been getting a lot better at flying during lessons." I look towards James direction with a hopeful expression, hoping he'll get my hint. By the way he grins, I know he has.

"Brilliant. Try-outs are this Friday. Be ready for the unexpected, Cooper. Quidditch games aren't for the lighthearted," he teases. I chuckle and nod.

"Perhaps we could put on that scrimmage game we planned," Lily inputs. "You know, before _that_ whole thing started." She's referring to Tatiana telling Rowena off.

"That would be a good idea. I trust you still need the better understanding of the game, right?" Duncan asks.

"Yes," I admit. "I really want to try-out, but I know I can't if I don't know the game. I mean, what's the point?"

"You'll pick it up in no time," Rowena assures with a nod. "And if you're as brilliant a flyer as you claim to be, I'd bet James would even guarantee you a spot on the team." She looks over at his direction.

"Definitely," he says. "With some of our best players gone, we'll need to find even better replacements. Gryffindor's winning Quidditch Cup this year."

"That's what I'm talking about," Duncan says, raising his glass of pumpkin juice. We laugh as a group, holding our own goblets out for a toast. "To the Quidditch Cup! May Gryffindor _always_ be the best Quiddich team." We agree and gently clink our cups to each other's, laughing and having a good time. I'm fully relieved to be back here. Never again will I put a good-looking girl before my friends—never, _ever_ again.

Breakfast draws to an end and I begin to exit the Great Hall with Duncan and James, caught in a heated conversation about Quidditch. I'm extremely excited for this scrimmage match James promises to put together, anxiously awaiting my first game. As we approach the doors, I hear Professor McGonagall call out to me and I turn on my heel.

"Mr. Cooper," she says, outstretching her arm towards me as she lays a wrinkled hand on my shoulder. Duncan and James look at us curiously, along with Rowena and Rose, who are standing nearby. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to steal you away from your friends for the time being. There is someone I want you to meet, and I'm afraid the meeting cannot wait any longer. I will send an excuse to Professor Lingley for your absence."

I nod and look over my shoulder at my friends, who back away, waving farewell. I wave in return and follow Professor McGonagall out of the Great Hall towards her office. When we arrive, I notice Kingsley Shacklebolt seated in a fancy armchair next to McGonagall's desk. However, another man, one I'm unfamiliar with, is also sitting in the room with him, his chair across from McGonagall's desk. The unfamiliar man cranes his neck over his shoulder towards us and I find something quite distinguishing about his face. He's familiar, somehow.

"Mr. Cooper," Professor McGonagall says as we approach the man. "I'd like you to meet Mr. Harry Potter."

My eyes widen and then I realize the reason why he looks so familiar. He's James', Albus', and Lily's father, and I can really tell the resemblance between him and Al. The same green eyes and unruly black hair. The only difference, really, is the round-shaped glasses and the faint, strange scar on his forehead, carved in the shape of a lightening bold. It's a pretty nifty scar, in my opinion.

"It's a pleasure to meet finally meet you," Harry says, shaking my hand. "I've heard so much about you."

"Likewise," I reply with a small grin as I shake his hand back.

"Please have seat, Mr. Cooper," McGonagall says, and I take the seat next to Harry, also seated in front of her desk. The headmistress takes her place in her tall-backed chair, folding her hands together.

"Aiden, as we've told you before, you and Mr. Potter share quite a significant talent."

"The Parselmouth ability," I say immediately. She nods.

"Yes. We were hoping you could gain some knowledge on your talent from Mr. Potter."

Harry turns to me, a smile on his face. _"Shall we have a conversation?"_

_ "About what?"_ I reply. He leans back, crossing a leg over his knee.

_"You are fluent,"_ he says. _"I remember being that way as well."_

_ "You mean to say you aren't anymore?"_

McGonagall and Shacklebolt stare at us in awe. I knit my eyebrows together.

"What is it?" I ask. Harry arches an eyebrow.

"Do you know what language we are speaking?" he asks. I cock my head to the side, puzzled by his question.

"What do you mean? We're speaking … English …" I stop myself, still thinking about the question.

"You speak Parseltongue so fluently," Harry says, "for someone who's never even _heard_ of the language. In fact, you speak it so fluently that you don't even know that you _are_ speaking a different language."

I'm taken aback, but somehow I know the news shouldn't be that shocking to me. After all, the very first time I spoke Parseltongue in Lingley's class, I hadn't realized I was speaking the snake language either. And then, while Tatiana and I were having that fight in the corridor yesterday, I'd said things to her and she didn't understand what I was saying. She'd told me to _speak English_, but I was sure I was speaking English. Was that really because I spoke Parseltongue so fluently that I couldn't distinguish which language was which?

"So, how can _you_ distinguish which language you're speaking?" I ask. "Aren't you just as fluent as I am?"

Harry smiles lightly. "I once was, but that was only because I was given the ability accidentally by Voldemort, the only living Parselmouth at the time. I was fluent because I was connected to him by this complicated bond. However, when that bond was severed, I didn't exactly lose the ability, but rather I can't speak it as freely as I used to. It doesn't come naturally anymore, as it does for you. You listen to me speak the words so easily, like we're speaking your natural language. I listen to you speak something foreign, but because I learned the language, I can understand you, but I hear it come out as the snake language. Are you following me?"

I slowly nod, slightly in shock of what I'm hearing. I guess I just don't understand why I have this ability in the first place.

"Yes, I understand," I say. "So, then, how come my words come out in Parseltongue in the first place?"

"Perhaps it's because your mind automatically relapses on the other language, since it comes so fluently. Your mind automatically knows to speak it, even if _you_ yourself don't know," he explains.

"So … I _unconsciously_ speak this language?"

Harry nods. "Yes. That's a better way to put it."

"I guess the question really is where I'm getting this ability," I sigh, glancing at Professor McGonagall and Shacklebolt. "My mother is pure Muggle-blood, I know. I'm still placing my bets that this came from my father. He's a liar anyway, so I wouldn't doubt it if he were lying about this."

"We understand that you feel that way towards your father, Aiden, but you must realize that the Malfoy family is of no relation to Salazar Slytherin, despite their long line of pureblooded witches and wizards and their strong loyalty to Slytherin himself. There is just no evidence," McGonagall says.

"It is this reason that we are currently out searching for any Dark wizards that could very well be descendants of Slytherin," Shacklebolt adds. "If neither of your parents descended from Slytherin, then the only other option is that you were put in the same situation as Mr. Potter when he was a baby."

I look at Harry, knitting my eyebrows together. "You don't remember it happening? Being given the ability?" He shakes his head solemnly.

"I was only a year old," he says with a shrug. "And I'm so much older now. My memory is getting weaker." He adds a gentle chuckle. "But I have seen the memories of people who witnessed this attack, and I can say memory is very hazy when it comes to remembering Voldemort attacking my home." He glances over my head at the wall, and I follow his gaze. My eyes land on the firm expression of the previous headmaster, Severus Snape, his arms crossed over his chest, black robes billowing behind him. His expression is less cold as it normally is, his dark eyes twinkling with hints of sadness as he exchanges glances with Harry. "But I don't blame you for not remembering something like this, if it really did happen."

"There are many possibilities that could have led to your memory mishap," says Shacklebolt. "This Dark wizard could have altered the memories of you and your family so that they wouldn't remember something like this."

"But it _is_ fishy as to why they wouldn't kill his family in the first place, if this person really _was_ a Dark wizard," says Harry.

"Or why they'd consider killing the family to begin with," adds Professor McGonagall.

"I guess that's why they hire us," jokes Harry, nudging me in the side. "It's up to us Aurors to get to the bottom of this."

"Will my family be safe?" I ask. Shacklebolt nods.

"Yes. As I am aware, Mr. Potter has already stationed Aurors around your home to provide protection for your family."

Harry nods. "That's right. They're in hiding so that no one, wizard or Muggle, will notice them. We've already made your mother and grandmother aware of these arrangements as well." He turns towards McGonagall and Shacklebolt. "Draco Malfoy also volunteered to take part in this security plan. He wished to help guard the Cooper home."

"But he is not an Auror," McGonagall says.

"It's fine," Harry replies. "He's doing it for the good of his son's family." I roll my eyes.

"That git only cares about himself. He probably just wants the fame. He still asks for my forgiveness for deliberately keeping himself out of my life when I most needed him," I sneer. Harry gently places a hand on my shoulder.

"You should be lucky to have parents who are alive and well, who can comfort you when needed," he says gently, but my eyes remain narrowed. "I know fully well what it's like to be orphaned and to grow up in a troubled home with guardians who don't love you. Rest assured I will keep your family safe, as I would never willingly bestow such a fate on anyone. Your father isn't doing this for fame; he's doing it for you because he loves you."

I look away, pouting as I cross my arms over my chest. I hate the words he says, but they play to my heart and I can't help but long to wish them true. All I've ever wanted was a father's love—was it possible that Draco could really grant me this? Despite everything I've said towards him, and all of the nasty things I thought about him, I wish, deep, deep down, that maybe Draco could really be the father I've always wanted.


	15. Chapter 15

_Author's Note:_ Okay, the canon errors I am recently discovering throughout this story is driving me up the wall, but it's too late to change them because I've already deleted the edited documents off of the Doc Manager. /: I'm sorry for said errors. I know that McGonagall actually is supposed to be retired from her duty as Headmistress by this time in Albus Potter's years at Hogwarts, and that, in actuality, Scorpius is Al's and Rose's age and in their year, but I made him a year ahead of them. But, for the record, it's not my fault! Really! And, I will explain why: THE HP-LEXICON IS STUPID! DX (You were right, Brutie; the wikia is much more useful. Everybody, hear ye, hear ye, ALWAYS LISTEN TO BRUTIE!) The Harry Potter wikia is waaaaaaay more informed than the HP-Lexicon, which is the source I've been using. The Lexicon doesn't mention McGonagall retiring, or how old Scorpius is when he is introduced in the epilogue of _Deathly Hallows_. So ... yes, I fail for not reading the wikia before writing this. I know this is superdy-duperdy late, but, better late than never, right? d8 Anyway, yeah ... that's all I really had to say. Oh, and, also ... POTTERMORE IS DRIVING ME CRAZY. OH LORDY. D8 I STILL CANNOT ACCESS THE SITE FOR THE EFFING CLUE, DAMMIT! RAWR! Okay, that's out of my system. I'm just really frustrated about that. It's a bit of a long story and I'm not going to squeeze it into my morbidly long author's note.

* * *

**CHAPTER 15**

By the time I leave Professor McGonagall's office, first class has already ended and the halls are bustling with students trying to get to their next class. I stumble through the crowds, my mind relaying the conversation I had with Harry. Meeting with him was actually better than I thought it would be. He of all people really understood me and what I was going through. There was one point where McGonagall and Shacklebolt decided to leave us to our conversation, and Harry began to tell me the full story of how he was a Parselmouth as well. He'd told me a story of some Chamber of Secrets, and the meeting of Tom Riddle's "soul" from a diary (Tom Riddle being the actual name of Voldemort—go figure), and after I had told him about the phantom voices, he described the voices _he'd_ heard before entering the Chamber.

"The voice, as it turned out, had belonged to a basilisk that was petrifying Muggle-borns around the school," Harry explained. My eyebrows knitted together.

"Muggle-borns?" I repeated. "So, are you telling me that the voice I'm hearing could belong to the basilisk as well?"

"Not the same one," said Harry. "When I'd entered the Chamber, I actually killed it. Whether there is a second basilisk is unbeknownst to me, but if you are hearing a voice that nobody else can hear, it is likely that they are speaking Parseltongue, and that this voice _does_ belong to a serpent. Where have you heard this voice?"

"I've only heard it twice," I had told him. "The first time was out on the field right after flying lessons. I was nearing the broom cupboard when it started saying my name. It didn't say anything else. The second time was earlier today when I was in the hall. It said my name again, but in addition to that began describing some dirty blood or other, wanting to kill Muggle-borns."

Harry sighed heavily, crossing his arms over his chest tightly. "That is something to be very concerned about. There is a possibility that another danger has entered this school, much like it has in the past."

"But, Voldemort is dead, so you say—"

"He is," Harry interrupted with a firm nod. "_I_ killed him."

"—so this danger couldn't possibly relate to him."

"Well now, that's the conspiracy, isn't it?" Harry reminded. "I mean, here we are, discussing your Parselmouth abilities when, really, I should be the last remaining Parselmouth, despite my not being of blood relation to Voldemort or Slytherin. If there is another Parselmouth out there who's given you this ability, then he could very well be the new heir to Slytherin and have just as evil intentions as Voldemort did."

The room became solemn with silence after that as I watched Harry's face contort with concern, and even fear. The thought of a new Dark lord rising to power frightened him, but, of course, I completely understood, as Harry had spent so many years just trying to fight the evil power. An event of déjà vu would definitely not be good.

"Well, at least we know how to deal with this," Harry sighed, ducking his head as his black shaggy hair fell over his forehead, hiding the famous lightning bolt-shaped scar (or so I came to find out that it was famous; living in the Muggle world obviously kept me out of significant occurrences and people). "The Aurors have been trained even greater than before, in case a third wizarding war should occur. If there really is another heir of Slytherin, then I'm sure there will be."

"Well, that's uplifting," I muttered sarcastically.

"We just have to prepare ourselves. The wizarding community is especially sensitive to the mere thought of another Dark lord uprising. Think of it as a Muggle terrorist attack—you'd be terrified, wouldn't you?" Harry asked.

"Of course. What kind of bloody question is that? Anyway, I understand your concern. This subject isn't exactly cheery," I muttered.

"Unfortunately, neither is your situation. Hopefully we'll get to the bottom of this soon, preferably before any damage has been made. We've already suffered an innumerable amount of casualties thanks to the Second Wizarding War twenty-four years ago," Harry said.

Though Harry continuously reassured me that he and the Aurors were going to do everything in their power to protect my mother and grandmother, and to also search for this possible new Dark wizard, I still was left unsettled. Even now, walking through the crowds trying to get to Transfiguration, I can't stop thinking about it. The stories Harry told me were very unsettling, the powers of magic beyond any nuclear weapon Muggles have created.

When I left the office, Harry reassured me that he would keep me updated on the protection of my family, which I greatly appreciated. He told me he'd return to the school, also wanting to hear anything from me if I'd heard the voice again.

"Do not take this as me encouraging you to do this," Harry added before I left, "but if you do end up pursuing this voice, the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is located in the girls' bathroom on the second floor. Follow the tunnel—you'll eventually appear at a snake-engraved door. However, between you and me, I'd rather you keep this on the down-low. I could get into a lot of trouble if I told you this. Shacklebolt would probably assume that I'm encouraging you to pursue this monster.

"However, _say_ you do go, do not go alone, Aiden," Harry said firmly. "Take a small group of incredibly well-trained witches and wizards. The Chamber is not safe if this voice is residing there."

"Why are you telling me where the Chamber is in the first place if you'll just get into trouble?" I asked. Harry smiled.

"McGonagall was right about us having more in common than expected, especially considering you _are_ Draco Malfoy's son." He chuckled, shaking his head. "I see so much of my young self in you. I can already tell that you will stubbornly ignore anyone's plead to keep away and stay safe while danger lurks about, letting others take care of it. I couldn't stand that. I _still_ can't stand it. Besides, you're the only one who can speak Parseltongue—that gives you the idea that this mission belongs to you."

I half-smiled at that, because, truth be told, I did feel a sense of responsibility to go after this voice. Besides, how did someone follow a voice they couldn't hear?

"Be extra careful, Aiden," he said one last time before I left. "And tell James, Al, and Lily that I say hi." The last bit was left for some comic relief, as he knew that I had become friends with them, however whether he knew of our short falling-out I didn't know, but I didn't care to ask. I smiled before nodding and left the office.

As I enter Professor Lingley's classroom, I spot Albus and Duncan, along with Rowena and Rose, the four of them already paired up at their desks. They notice me walk in, smiling gently, which is a drastic difference from last week's attitude, but I'm just grateful that we're friends again. I drop into a next to Albus at an empty desk, and when I exchange soft pleasantries with him and Duncan, I spot Tatiana and her groupies out of the corner of my eye. My gaze unwillingly shifts towards them, and when my eyes land on her, she briefly glances back at me, her eyes narrowed into slits as she sticks her chin in the air. I roll my eyes and shake my head.

"What is it?" asks Albus. My gaze diverts back to him.

"Oh, nothing," I reply. I briefly glance back at the Slytherins and catch Tatiana in a heated conversation with Giselle, who keeps looking back at me with just as nasty a sneer as Tatiana's. Kira is amongst them, pursing her lips and narrowing her eyebrows. I figure she doesn't like what Tatiana is saying, and I presume that she won't want to tutor me anymore. I sigh and sit back in my chair, pulling out my textbook and wand. I don't need her anyway.

"So, what did McGonagall want to talk to you about? What was that meeting that 'couldn't wait any longer?'" Albus asks, using air-quotes as he repeats McGonagall's words.

"Oh, well, I met your dad," I started. Albus' eyebrows knit together, and Duncan, who overhears us, turns to me, a look of equal puzzlement etched on his face. Apparently Rowena and Rose overhear as well, as they spin around to face us from their desk in front of ours.

"You met my _dad_?" Albus asks. "How? I didn't even know he was here."

"I guess he didn't want to make it public," I say with a shrug. "He says hi, by the way." A slight blush rises from his cheeks.

"Well, that's embarrassing," he mutters.

"What did he say to you?" asks Rose. "Why did he want to meet with you in the first place? Does it have anything to do with Uncle Harry also being a Parselmouth?"

I nod. "Yeah, along the lines of that," I say. Suddenly, my voice drops so that nobody around us can eavesdrop. The four of them lean in close to hear me. "They're still investigating how I got my ability. They think that there might be another heir to Slytherin roaming about, and that he could have intentions to rise as another Dark lord."

Rowena and Rose gasp. Duncan and Albus widened their eyes.

"I _told_ you!" hissed Rowena. "I _told_ all of you that there could very well be another Dark lord! That's what you get for throwing You-Know-Who's name about willy-nilly!"

"Shush, Row!" Rose exclaims, fearing someone will overhear.

"Rowena, Voldemort isn't coming back," Albus sighs.

"But the suspicion of a new Dark lord …" Duncan says, trailing off. He runs his fingers through his dark hair. "Damn, that's actually scary."

"I know," I say, "even though I wasn't there during the ruling of Voldemort, Harry's told me plenty, and it does sound scary."

"So, it's for certain that you aren't an heir to Slytherin?" Rose asks softly. "I mean, considering only Parselmouths descend from him."

"No," I say firmly. "I'm not the heir. My mother came from a strictly Muggle family."

"Well, what about your father?" asks Albus. "I mean, you didn't know him, right?"

I fall silent after that, especially because I can't tell them the truth about my father. Just like I was for so long, they are all under the impression that he was gone before I even met him.

"No," I finally say, my tone barely audible. "I didn't know him, but Mum reassured that he came from a good wizarding family, completely against the Dark lord."

I feel awful, lying through my teeth like that, but Draco wanted me to keep his relation to me under wraps, and McGonagall had asked that I do the same as well. It's so stupid, and I don't know why I owe this guy any favors. I mean, I should just stand up on my table and announce how I am Draco Malfoy's love-child. It might embarrass Scorpius when the rumor would spread too, which would pay to my satisfaction.

"I thought you were a Muggle-born?" asks Albus. My face flushes as I scramble for an explanation. Damn Draco for making me cover up for him!

"I actually just figured out that I'm not, to be honest," I say, lying through my teeth. "Lots of things have been becoming unleashed since this whole Parselmouth fiasco started. Mum admitted to knowing about my father's true heritage and that she couldn't tell me because she didn't think I'd ever get my letter." Okay, so that actually _was_ partly the truth. Actually, it was mostly the truth, only, I'd known about Draco's heritage since before I knew I was a Parselmouth.

The others are surprised by this, and even give me looks of pity, which I don't want at all.

"Have they looked into your family bloodlines, though? Even though your father came from a good family, it doesn't mean _someone_ along the line wasn't descended from Slytherin. You never know, nowadays," Duncan says with a shrug. I narrow my eyes.

"I'm _positive_ that I am not the heir of Slytherin. They're actually relating my case to Harry Potter's—that I was given, however intentional is unknown, the ability to speak to snakes through a form of exchanging of souls or something. It's complicated," I say.

"I know what you mean," Albus says solemnly. "Dad sat James, Lily, and I down one day and fully explained his connection to Voldemort. When he was a baby, Voldemort came and killed my grandparents, and when he tried to kill my dad, his spell backfired and accidentally made him into a Horcrux."

"Right …" I say slowly. "That's what he told me in McGonagall's office."

"Well, if _that_ is the case, and your situation is similar to Uncle Harry's, then what could be the reason why someone would want to put a piece of their soul into you, despite however intentional it may or may not be?" asks Rose.

"That's what the Aurors are trying to figure out," I say. I'm about to say more, but, at that moment, the door to Professor Lingley's office flies open and she struts out, her maroon robes doing her figure justice. Her black hair is pulled into a messy bun, a grey striped quill keeping it in place.

"Pardon my tardiness, students," she says quickly, withdrawing her wand to enchant the chalk to write on its own. "If you would please turn to the pages written on the board, we can quickly begin the lesson." Her sharp emerald eyes flutter towards our part of the room. "Miss Weasley and Miss Vane, if you would kindly sit properly in your chairs facing the front of the class, that would be spectacular." Rose and Rowena sheepishly turn, their faces turning red like Rose's bushy hair. There are a few rude snickers coming from the Slytherin side of the room, which I found to be quite typical every time Gryffindor was scolded, and I notice that Tatiana is amongst the laughers, her lips twisted into a wicked smile.

"We'll continue this later," Albus murmurs to the four of us. Duncan and I bob our heads in agreement as Professor Lingley begins her late lesson.

It's hard for me to concentrate during class. I can't help but think about telling the truth about who my father really is to my friends, at least to Duncan, Albus, Rose, and Rowena. It feels awful shrouding my true identity from them, especially since they've just welcomed me back into their circle of friends. It's only fair that I tell them, right? Besides, it's my secret to share just as much as Draco's, and it concerns me well more than it does him.

With my mind juggling thoughts of a possible new Dark lord and letting loose my secret, I long for the end of Transfiguration. When will the chaos ever end?


	16. Chapter 16

_Author's Note:_ Short, filler-y chapter. Don't quite like it, except for the brief comic relief. Complete balls. /:

* * *

**CHAPTER 16**

I'm not able to continue the conversation from Transfiguration with Duncan, Al, Rose, and Rowena until after dinner. With fourth year classes and flying lessons back-to-back, not to mention my actual sixth year classes, I rarely have any free time. I can't wait until I catch up with my sixth year classes—I'm getting really tired of having extra lessons for almost every subject. If Draco hadn't kept me from Hogwarts this long, then none of this would have happened, so, typically, this is his fault.

When I return to the common room, I immediately collapse into one of the scarlet armchairs, sighing with relief that the day is over. I'm overwhelmed with loads of rubbish on my plate at the moment, which is complete bollocks for me. Having to juggle around my homework given to me from every single class (as if I don't have anything else to do—give me a break), Quidditch trials arriving in just a couple of days, and the entire chaos concerning a possible new Dark lord and my Parselmouth abilities, should not be considered healthy for a sixteen-year-old. And university students thought _they_ had it bad.

Duncan, Rose, Rowena, and Albus join me around the fireplace, taking seats in the spare armchairs and sofa.

"So, are you going to continue the rest of what's happening?" asks Rowena. I look at her firmly before nodding curtly.

"Yeah. There's actually something you guys need to know," I say slowly. "It's another reason why the Aurors are afraid of a possible Dark lord rising."

"You mean addition to there being a second heir to Slytherin?" asks Rose in shock. I nod and sigh heavily before leaning in.

"Okay, well, this will probably come off as a complete shocker, but please maintain yourselves—I'd really rather not have any more attention drawn to me because of it. People will think I'm a complete nutter," I mutter. "I've been hearing voices, and before any of you say anything, I already know this isn't natural."

"Oh my God," Duncan whispers.

"What do they say?" Albus asks.

"That's the scary part," I say. "They're looking to kill … a Muggle-born. Yesterday when Tatiana and I had that fight, I heard it, saying that it smelled 'dirty blood' and that it wanted to kill the 'Mudblood.'" Rose cringes at the vile word. "Tatiana didn't hear it, and when I relayed this to your dad, Al, he told me about his second year, about the basilisk and the Chamber of Secrets, about how he heard voices too. He thinks the voice could belong to a snake—another basilisk."

"Another basilisk?" asks Rowena in disbelief. "But, those are incredibly rare. You don't just find one in any old sewer. They're only bred by Dark wizards, and it's illegal to do so."

"Well, whatever it is, it's a serpent because it's speaking Parseltongue," I tell her. Suddenly, we're interrupted by the booming voice belonging to James Potter. I roll my eyes, failing to hide my irritation.

"Now what are you suspicious-looking lot up to?" he asks teasingly, ruffling the unruly black mop of hair on his younger brother's head. Albus scowls at him.

"Nothing," he snaps. "Now bugger off, why don't you?"

"Oh? Defensive are we? This really must be an interesting topic. Do give me the juicy details," James says excitedly, perching himself on the arm of Albus' armchair.

"It's not really all that interesting," Rose says casually. "We were just discussing how Aiden is going to take is O.W.L.s, as he hasn't taken them and needs to before he graduates."

I arch an eyebrow at her inquisitively. She flashes me a small smile.

"That's right," Rowena inputs. "He's come to Hogwarts at a very awkward time. _You_ know how vital the O.W.L.s are, James."

"What are you playing at, Vane? Inquiring that I _failed_ my O.W.L.s fifth year?" James scoffs. "I'm bloody brilliant; everybody knows that. Be wary, though, Cooper—Lingley makes a right nasty Transfiguration test. Had to stay for tutoring with her after class, although it wasn't too bad; any boy would fancy an evening after hours with Madam Landon Lingley." He wriggles his eyebrows as Rose and Rowena gasp in disgust.

"James!" Rose squeals.

"You can leave," Albus growls. James snickers.

"What? It's the truth, isn't that right, Aiden? I mean, you've seen Lingley—she's absolutely _breath-taking_."

"I'm glad to hear, Mr. Potter," hisses a sharp voice from behind James. I can't help but snicker as his face flushes a deep crimson. He immediately spins around, almost falling to the ground from the arm of the chair as he notices Professor Lingley's stern expression, her full lips pulled into a frown as her almond-shaped eyes are narrowed into slits. Her arms are folded over her chest as she stares at James in irritation.

"P-p-professor Lingley!" James chokes. "Lovely evening, isn't it?" He laughs nervously, scratching the back of his head. Professor Lingley's face doesn't shift, not even slightly.

"Quite so," she replies, "and I'll bet tomorrow will be even lovelier. I reckon you'd enjoy a nice trip to detention." Again, James laughs nervously. "Unfortunately you will not be spending the evening with me. Instead, Mr. Filch could really use your help shining armor in the armory." She leans into him, her face inches from his, and her lips pull into a sadistic smile, but somehow it's still utterly gorgeous. "Sound lovely?"

He gulps, but doesn't say a word. Professor Lingley backs away, her face returning to its natural stern expression as she eyes the rest of us before bowing her head curtly as a goodbye gesture. James' face is still as red as a tomato, and the lot of us burst into maniacal cackles as James glares at us.

"Hmm, shining armor does sound like loads of fun," Duncan teases.

"Too bad you won't be doing it with Professor Lingley, though," Albus adds.

"I guess she wasn't up for any _after-hour rendezvous'_," I say, grinning.

"Stuff it, all of you!" James seethes. "And keep it up, Cooper, and you can kiss your opportunity to the Quidditch try-outs goodbye." Suddenly I glare.

"That's not fair," Duncan intercepts. "We're only having a little fun. Calm down, James."

He sighs heavily before calming down. "Right. Sorry. Anyway, there's a reason why I came here," he begins, and the five of us listen intently. "I just talked to Zedek Smith, the Hufflepuff Quidditch captain. He says he's game for a scrimmage tomorrow during lunch. Think you can make it, Aiden?"

My eyebrows lift and I suddenly forget about James being a complete arse just five minutes ago. "Yeah. Definitely," I reply.

"Brilliant," James says with a grin. "So, get ready, you two," he adds to Albus and Duncan. "We need to show Aiden how well Gryffindor kicks arse."

The three boys chuckle as Rose and Rowena exchange looks and shake their heads.

"Boys," Rose mutters under her breath.

"Oh, and, bring your broom, Aiden" James adds before he leaves for the boys' dormitories. "You can't learn if you don't get any hands-on experience, you understand?"

I grin and nod. James disappears from the common room and butterflies of excitement traverse through my body. I'm finally going to learn the famous game of Quidditch. Tomorrow can't come soon enough.


	17. Chapter 17

**_Author's Note: _**My chapters are getting shorter and shorter. D; I'm sorry. Well, this is for Brutie and her birthday. :D I really want to get more updates out (and I'm trying really hard to!), but lately I haven't had it in me to write anything. /: Blah. Hopefully that changes very soon! Besides, I need to hurry up and finish this and DWK IV because I have other stuff to write! Blah! Well, again, happy birthday, Brutie! :D And, everyone else, enjoy the chapter and leave your reviews! Thanks! (:

* * *

**CHAPTER 17**

I step on to the Quidditch pitch, mesmerized by the vastness and splendor of it. The stands rise high above my head, and the three hoops on both sides seemingly disappear into the clouds. There's already a large group of kids here, flying around on their brooms so skillfully and comfortably, throwing around a red ball.

I squeeze my broom in my hand with excitement, the cool wind blowing through my wispy blonde hair and sending chills down my spine. James told me to arrive in casual clothes, as Quidditch is rowdy business, so I show up in a pair of torn skinny jeans and a loose, plain, purple t-shirt.

Duncan and Albus waltz before me, running towards James. Rose and Rowena smile and bid me farewell as they tell me they'll be watching, Hugo shortly joining them. I hurry to catch up with Duncan and Albus, and James grins widely at me.

"Oh good. You made it," he says to me.

"Of course I did. I need the experience for trials, don't I?" I retort. James nods in agreement.

"Right. Hey, Zed!" James shouts to the players in the sky. One of them flies down and approaches us, his choppy-layered blonde hair sticking up in all sorts of places from the gusts of wind.

"Oi, mate," the boy, Zed, greets.

"We're ready for our scrimmage. This, by the way, is Aiden Cooper. Aiden, meet Zedek Smith."

Zedek flashes a toothy smile as he sticks out his hand. "I know you—you're the Parselmouth," he beams. I strain to keep my smile and I hear Duncan sigh heavily from behind me. "Well, if you want to watch the _winning_ team to get a better understanding of the game, you might want to keep your eyes on Hufflepuff."

James scoffs. "Oh, don't make me laugh, Smith."

"It's true. My team's practiced over the summer, and a damn good have we all gotten."

"Which, can't be saying much; Hufflepuff nearly lost every Quidditch game last year," Duncan mutters in my ear. Zedek overhears and narrows his eyes at him.

"I'd watch myself, Bell. Chasers don't do well against Bludgers," he threatens.

"Oh for goodness sakes," Lily groans from James' side. "Could we please take this argument to the air? We're here for a reason—to show Aiden how the bloody hell to play Quidditch."

"She's right. Get back to your team, Smith. We're ready when you are," says James to the Hufflepuff captain. He nods his head, shooting daggers at Duncan once more before stomping towards his team. James turns to us as he calls in the Gryffindor team. "Okay, guys," he announces. "So, really, this scrimmage is for our good pal Aiden." He claps a hand on my shoulder. "We are short one Chaser, since Bradley Wood left us last year—that damn bloke—hence the trials this upcoming Friday. That's where _you_ come in, Aiden." James nods at me. "Although, technically speaking, this is unfair to the others who want to try-out, so, just be lucky that you have a friend in higher places." He grins at me, and Duncan and Lily roll their eyes.

"Anyway," James continues, "we don't expect you to do too much. But once you catch on, feel free to join the game. I reckon Gryffindor can do with six players for the time being."

"Oi! Potter! You ready now?" Zedek calls from his team. James throws his hand in the air, signaling his response that he is indeed ready.

"Okay, everyone," he mutters to us one last time. "Mount your brooms."

Hugo calls the start for us and, as soon as he whistles, everybody darts from the ground and flies into the air. The Bludgers are released and the red ball, the Quaffle, is thrown about in the air. Everyone is speeding past me, and it's hard to catch up with what is going on. Suddenly, Duncan arrives briefly at my side.

"Follow my lead, Aiden," he says to me, and he darts back into the manic game. I follow him, clutching onto my broom tightly as I try not to get hit by everything else flying around on the field.

"All you have to do," he shouts back at me, "is try and get the Quaffle and throw it through Hufflepuff's hoops!"

"Got it!" I shout back.

The game is exhilarating and I catch on quickly. Like Rowena said, I was able to understand the concept and my position immediately. With fellow Chaser, Everett Thomas, he, Duncan, and I were able to score a number of points for Gryffindor. When the game ends, the final score totals to 360 to 110 (the increments rising by ten, I later learn), Gryffindor.

As I fly back down to the ground, I'm congratulated all around, but I'm so out of breath that it's hard to fully appreciate it. I notice the Hufflepuff team on the other side of the field not looking as cheery as my team, for obvious reasons. Zedek and James do bid each other "good game," before Zedek leads his team off of the field.

"You were _brilliant_, Aiden!" exclaims Lily, her long red hair falling apart in the ponytail she'd initially gathered it in. She's put away her Beater's bat and has run up to me, her broom clutched tightly in her hand.

"You _were_ incredible, mate," Duncan says, clapping a hand on my shoulder. His forehead is glistening with sweat as his dark hair sticks to it in stringy strands. "See? All you had to do was follow my lead. You even scored some nice goals of your own."

I smile, finally regaining my breath.

"Told you it wasn't for the faint-hearted," James snickers, folding his arms over his chest proudly.

"Who said I was faint of heart?" I pant. James grins widely.

"I must say, Cooper, you put on an excellent game. I should just give you the position now. Your broomstick and your adrenaline have proved yourself worthy on the field."

"But what about trials?" Rose asks. She, Rowena, and Hugo have descended from the stands to meet us on the ground. "That wouldn't be very fair to the others who want to try out."

"Well, we know Aiden's got game," Albus says, smiling at me. "_If_ there is someone better than him at trials, then we'll just put him in for reserve Chaser, although"—he nudges my side with his elbow—"that doesn't seem too likely. It's as if you were _born_ with the talent to fly a broom."

"He's right," Hugo says. "I've grown up with Quidditch and brooms, and yet I'm still a menace, but you—you've grown up in the Muggle world _without_ broom-flying and Quidditch, yet you're bloody brilliant at it."

"Guess I'm just lucky," I say with a shrug.

"Your dad must have been an excellent flyer when he was alive," Lily says sympathetically.

"Yes," Rowena agrees. "What was his name? Perhaps I could find him in the Quidditch players guide."

"Um …" I stammered, fearing the question. Again, I have to lie because if I were to say the _true_ name of my father, well—things would spiral chaotically out of hand. "He didn't come to Hogwarts—at least that's what Mum told me."

"Oh," Rowena says, surprised. "Well then, what school _did_ he go to?"

"I don't know," I say. "I'm not familiar with magic schools, in case you hadn't noticed."

Rowena's about to open her mouth again to ask another question, but Duncan holds up his hand to stop her, giving her a look.

"We should put our brooms away and take showers," he suggests instead. "It's great that you understand the game now, Aiden. Between all of us, though, I think you've got the position in the bag." He grins as the others nod in agreement.

"Definitely," James adds. "So, stay on my good side and I'll give you the position come Friday." I scowl at him.

"Please. According to you lot, your team _needs_ me," I say, growing an egotistic smile.

"And, with Aiden, Slytherin won't stand a chance. This is _brilliant_," Lily exclaims.

We walk towards the broom shed to put our broomsticks away before heading back to the castle, Corey and Everett carrying the trunk of Quidditch equipment. The team, Rowena, Rose, and Hugo, are still congratulating me on my fine work on the field, and I can't help but bask in the glory. I hope that James keeps his word, for I'd love nothing more than to face off with Slytherin House on the Quidditch pitch, getting the satisfaction of beating Scorpius Malfoy brutally, especially with the broom his father had bought for me. Friday can't possibly come slower, and November 1 after that for the first match. If what Lily says is true, and Malfoy really is a horrid player, then that just gets me excited even more. I've never been so excited to be at this school, and, as each day passes, I appreciate being here more and more.


	18. Chapter 18

_**Author's Note:**_ Brutie's really going to like this chapter, I already know it. :3

* * *

**CHAPTER 18**

Quidditch trials come up, finally, and, just as the Gryffindor team (and Rowena, Rose, and Hugo) predict, I make the final position as Chaser. I'm all grins the entire day, trying hard not to act smugly towards the other kids who don't make the team.

"You continue to impress me, Cooper, I have to say," James says during dinner that same night. "You definitely had Chaser in the bag."

"That's for sure," Duncan agrees. "We'll miss Bradley Wood, but you're going to be an excellent addition to the team. You'll really help Everett and me out."

"Thanks, guys," I say casually, trying not to bubble over too much with excitement.

When we retire to our dorms, all Duncan, Albus, and I can talk about are the Quidditch trials. After that, we end up joking around and throwing our pillows at each other, Albus' ferret squealing while Bursty croaks in his tank.

Since the Gryffindor team is made up now, James keeps his word on having practice every other day until the first game. I know I have to attend practice, so I try really hard to advance in my studies, wanting to reach to sixth year level so I can stop taking extra classes. At the rate I'm going, though, Rowena and Rose think I'll be at a sixth year level in no time.

"Your marks are very good," Rose says. "I'm sure by the end of first term you'll be all caught up."

"First term?" I repeat in disbelief. "That's too far ahead! I need to get to a sixth year level within a couple of weeks so I can focus on Quidditch."

Rowena drops a stack of books beside me. We're seated at a table in the middle of the library, having already finished our lunches. Duncan and Albus have yet to join us, as they're still in the Great Hall with the others.

"Well, Aiden," Rose says gently, "you've got to think realistically. I mean, fifth year is difficult. This is the year that we have to take our O.W.L.s. We're really pressured to study, and, considering you can't graduate without them, McGonagall will most likely make you take them as well."

"Besides," Rowena adds. "You've just barely started your fourth year level classes, haven't you? You'll be _lucky_ to finish fifth year by the end of the term."

"You two realize you're not making me feel any better," I grumble at them.

"Well, it's a good thing we have faith in you," Rowena says with a wide smile. "Someone who's been living amongst Muggles up until one month ago and already skimming through first through third year knowledge—it's pretty amazing."

"And, considering that you've made time for Quidditch and … other extracurricular activities," Rose says slowly. She bites her bottom lip, glancing at Rowena, and I suddenly realize she's referring to Tatiana. I roll my eyes.

"Forget about it," I mutter. Rowena flips open a large textbook, turning the frail yellow pages delicately.

"Well, anyway, I found most of the books you'll need for your selected fourth year courses. Rose and I will willingly help you, since we _do_ want you to catch up," Rowena says, and Rose nods.

"Yes. Don't worry; we'll make sure you reach your sixth year level classes in no time."

They put me to work, tutoring me for the remaining of lunch. I'm left with the duty to put the books away (Rowena's bargain, since she and Rose are giving up their free time to tutor me, though I don't see how this is fair considering I never asked for their help in the first place) while Rowena and Rose hurry to their double Divination class.

"I suppose you don't want me tutoring you anymore," chimes a voice from behind me. I spin around, nearly throwing the books in my arms at the person who's snuck up on me. I come face to face with Kira Pucey, whose eyebrows are arched inquisitively.

"Pucey," I say, gasping for breath. "Bloody hell, you scared me. What are you doing here?"

"I've been here the entire time," she retorts. "The library _is_ open for everyone, you know."

"That's not what I meant," I snap impatiently. "I mean, what are you doing _here_, sneaking up on me?"

She crosses her arms over her chest and rolls her eyes, blowing her straight-across bangs out of her face, though they fall back in place anyway.

"I wasn't _sneaking up_ _on you_," she corrects.

"Then what are you doing here?" I repeat. She looks away, as if my appearance is boring her.

"Just wandering," she says vaguely. My eyebrows knit together before shaking my head and returning my attention to the stack of heavy books in my arms.

"Well, I'd suggest you run along now before your lackeys spot you around me. In case you didn't notice, your friends don't exactly like me anymore," I sneer.

"They have their reasons," she says. "And they're _not_ my lackeys. Sometimes I prefer to be without them, but with Tatiana around, it's hard to escape them. I got lucky this time, using the 'studying for History of Magic midterm' excuse."

"Why would you prefer to be without your friends? Aren't Tatiana and Giselle your _best_ friends?"

Kira purses her lips, hesitating before answering. I arch an eyebrow with suspicion.

"You once asked me if I liked Tatiana," I remind her, going back to my first tutoring lesson with Kira. "Why?"

"You've already asked me that," she says.

"You've never given me a straight answer," I retort. Kira's eyebrows narrow.

"Let's just say Tatiana has a history of not being the most loyal or the most caring girlfriend. It was just a matter of time before she would have done something that you really didn't like, but, fortunately for you, you got out of the relationship before she could do anything to hurt you." She widens her eyes quickly, and, just as quickly, she immediately glares. "Not that I _care_ about _you_ or anything of the sort, so you should get that bloody idea out of your thick head right now. I'm just warning you about her. She's not the type who should have boyfriends, considering she doesn't remain loyal to them."

"So … you were looking out for me?" I ask, baffled. Her eyes narrow to slits.

"Didn't you just hear what I said? I said I didn't care about _you_. Since you're new and you don't know anything about anyone, I figured I do you the kindness and fill you in on who Tatiana really is."

"I figured that out for myself, thanks," I mutter with an eye roll. "She's annoying and bratty behind that pretty face. And being a floozy doesn't surprise me either." My eyebrows suddenly knit together. "Hold on—why are you telling me this? That's a pretty nasty way to talk about a friend."

"Well, I'm a pretty blunt person," Kira mutters.

"So am I, but I won't talk rubbish about my friends behind their backs," I snap. She glares at me for my remark. "So, tell me, why do _you_ like Tatiana?"

"We're friends," she says flatly.

"Friends don't talk behind their backs," I say. "And they stand up for them and do whatever to protect them."

She scoffs. "Yeah, you'd know all about that," she sneers sarcastically.

"Yeah, actually I _would_," I spit. "I learned my lesson, thanks to Tatiana being a complete bitch. I'll tell you one thing—it's pretty rotten of you to talk so horribly about her if you claim to be 'friends.'"

"I don't have time for this!" she snarls. "I don't know why I'm wasting my time with an imbecile like yourself."

She turns on her heel and storms away, but, curiosity is biting at the back of my mind. It's obvious she's hiding something. By her petty responses, I can tell she really doesn't care for Tatiana at all. Why she keeps denying it, I have no idea. I suppose it's just the rottenness in her heart. After all, she does keep poor company.

I feel like Rowena's personality is rubbing off on me because, as soon as she storms away, I place the stack of books on the ground and dart after her, begging for an explanation.

"Kira, wait!" I call out.

_"Shh!"_ hisses the ancient librarian, Madam Pince. I swear, I'll bet she's been the librarian at this school since _Draco's_ father attended this school.

I roll my eyes and finally catch up with her, grabbing a hold of her elbow. She spins around, glaring daggers at me.

_"Let go of me,"_ she seethes.

"Look, I just want to know what's going on with you and Tatiana," I say. She gives me a look of utter disbelief.

"And why on Earth should I tell _you_? That's none of your business!"

"What have you to hide? You've said too much already."

"Just leave me alone, Cooper."

"Just tell me what's going on!"

"Mr. Cooper! Miss Pucey! Lower your voices or leave the library," snaps Madam Pince.

Kira tugs her arm out of my grasp as she fixes her robes, her eyes still set in a glare.

"Tatiana and I have known each other for ages; our fathers were friends here at Hogwarts, so typically we grew up with each other." She sighs heavily. "We _were_ friends, at least, I considered her one at one point, but Tatiana was drastically changing over the years and became what she is today. I'm sure even _you've_ figured out that we're miles different, but she still considers us friends, and I just don't want to give up a friendship that started when we were first born." Her eyes narrow to slits. "There. Happy now that you've pried into my private life? Can I leave?"

"So, you're going to continue being friends with her, no matter how bitchy or slutty she is, because you don't want to give up a long-time friendship?" I ask in disbelief. I scoff and shake my head. "That's just bloody ridiculous."

"What would you know about long-time friendships? All the people you've met here you've only known for a month!" she snaps.

"How do you know that I didn't have friends before I came here?" She purses her lips.

"Fine. Did you have friends before you came here?" she asks sarcastically.

"A couple," I admit. "And, so maybe they weren't close friends, but at least I'm not moronic enough to keep a friend who I know isn't worth keeping."

"I _never_ said Tatiana wasn't worth keeping!"

"You didn't have to. I read between the lines. You don't want to be friends with her, but you feel too attached to her to give her up. So ridiculous." I shake my head. "If you ask me, I'd say to dump her and make some friends that are worth keeping. Giselle Goyle isn't any better than Higgs."

"Yeah, well, nobody asked you to begin with," Kira snaps. I narrow my eyes with concern. She stubbornly looks back at me, the glare seemingly permanent on her face. As I stare down at her, I can read frightened realization that I'm right—that she needs to get rid of Tatiana, despite their long-time friendship.

I sigh heavily, backing away and as I stick my hands into the pockets of my slacks. "Look, I guess it really isn't my place to tell you who you can and can't be friends with, or who you should or shouldn't be, but I'm just giving you some friendly advice. I've never really had friends until I came here, and when I foolishly gave them up to be with Tatiana, I realized it was the worst decision I ever made. I trust my friends, and they trust me. If you can do that with Tatiana—trust her and all—then I guess continue being friends with her. To be honest, I really didn't take you to have someone like Tatiana or Giselle as friends. You really _do_ contrast greatly between them. They're floozies and, well, you're not, at least you don't come off as one." Her face slowly contorts to a state of surprise at my words, her eyes widening and her thin eyebrows disappearing underneath her straight-across bangs.

I turn around, leaving her standing there, but suddenly I turn back to her, remembering to tell her one last thing.

"And, the only reason why I didn't continue tutoring with you is because I figured you hated me after Tatiana and I broke up. You and Giselle seemed to fawn over all of Tatiana's words, including the nasty things she was saying about me."

"I don't _fawn_ over her words," she mutters, but I continue.

"And, I didn't think she'd want you to be around me anyway. Guess we've both let her wedge through our friendships. _I_ will certainly never consider her a friend again, but you do what you will with her," I say and shrug one last time before returning to my bookshelf to place the books back. When I turn back to leave the aisle after I'm finished, I'm surprised to see Kira standing there, her head ducked shyly as she fumbles with her thumbs, her long fingernails painted matte black and appearing nonexistent against her robes, as the colors blend so well together.

"If you'd like, I will continue tutoring with you, if you're Gryffindor friends don't mind," she says softly. My eyebrows arch with surprise before I produce a smirk.

"Only if your Slytherin pals won't mind," I reply. She lifts her head, meeting with my smirk. She scoffs and makes a small smile, which I surprisingly find to be quite adorable.

"What level year are you studying at the moment?" she asks.

"I'm still going through fourth year studies," I say.

"Well, by the end of the month I'll make sure you're caught up with sixth studies," she promises. I widen my eyes.

"Really? Rose and Rowena said it wouldn't be possible, especially since I have O.W.L.s to also focus on," I say. She rolls her eyes and waves me off.

"We'll worry about O.W.L.s after you're caught up. It will be easier that way. But, if you want my tutoring, you're really going to have to work. I'm going to push you to finish fourth and fifth year studies."

"Deal," I say with a wide grin.

"And, _no_ complaining. I hate complaining," she grumbles. I roll my eyes, shaking my head.

"Again, deal." I stick my hand out and Kira grasps it as we shake our hands in agreement.

As we walk out of the library, I suddenly realize why Kira is so different from the rest of the entire Slytherin House. Though she's sarcastic and blunt, I think that she might actually be a friend from Slytherin worth having, and perhaps I'll be a friend for her worth having in return.


	19. Chapter 19

**CHAPTER 19**

When I tell my friends that Kira Pucey has offered to tutor me, they aren't too keen on the idea, especially Rowena. I get annoyed that they don't like the idea, but I don't want another falling out with them, so I try to reason with them.

"She's brilliant, guys," I say in the common room after dinner the same day I talked with Kira. "She's going to try and get me caught up with my sixth year classes by the end of the month."

"You do realize that there are only two weeks left in October," Rowena says. "How are you _possibly_ going to finish two-years-worth of lessons?"

"Not to mention, she's a floozy and is friends with Tatiana," Rose adds softly. I glare at her.

"Kira is _not_ a floozy," I say defensively. She's taken aback by my sudden outburst and I clear my throat, backing off. "She's not a floozy," I repeat in a calmer tone. "And she can really help me. James, you do realize what this means, don't you? If I finish my extra lessons early, then I'll have more time for Quidditch practice."

James ponders the thought, stroking his chin. Rowena narrows her eyebrows, disapproving.

"This isn't _just_ about Quidditch, is it? Aiden, you know your responsibilities as a student come before sports. Quidditch is a privilege, but graduating is a greater, more demanding privilege."

"But a privilege nonetheless," I add. She purses her lips.

"That's not what I meant."

"Are you my friend or my mother, Rowena?" I snap, fed up with her bossiness. She's taken aback.

"I'm your friend, of course," she says, "but I'm trying to persuade you to choose the right path. Studies should come first."

"I'll make that decision for myself."

"Yeah, because that worked out real well last time," Albus mumbles. I shoot him a look of disbelief. Honestly, I thought him of all people would side with me, considering he's one of the people who really want me on the Quidditch team.

"Thanks for your support, _Al_," I snap with deep sarcasm.

"Why can't Rose help you to finish your extra lessons by the end of the month?" asks James.

"Because Rose already made it clear that it was impossible for that to happen, and that I should 'think realistically,'" I reply, using air-quotes to quote her words from earlier. She blushes.

"Well, it's true," she says. "I mean, there's an entire reason why it takes us a course of a year to learn what we do each year. I don't know how Aiden's doing it, but he's obviously exceeding the levels thus far, but it only gets more difficult, and it takes longer to learn the more advanced magic."

"Like I said, Kira believes I can do it, and she believes she can get me to where I need to be by the end of October. I really want to play Quidditch, and I want to have free time after classes. Do you realize how dreadful it is just getting out of class and, while everyone else gets a break, I have to go and learn some more? I mean, honestly, I _never_ get a break!"

"Perhaps Aiden's right," Duncan says. "I mean, Kira is really smart. She's amazingly intelligent, it's scary. She may be able to help Aiden get to where he needs to be." I grin at him, silently thanking him for his support. He nods his head in return. "How he's going to do it, however, I have no idea. You'll have to pull several all-nighters."

"I plan on surviving on coffee and all the caffeine I can get for the next two weeks," I say.

"Coffee? Oh no," James says. "You're going to need much more than that measly Muggle drink. You'll need a _potion_."

"They make potions for that?" I ask.

"Yes, they do," Rose inputs. She sighs heavily. "Well, if you _strongly_ believe this girl can help you, then I guess I'll support you too. I can help you brew the Invigoration Draught."

"Invigoration Draught?" I repeat, puzzled.

"It's to help keep you energized and awake. It's fairly strong, stronger than your average caffeinated beverage at least," Albus says. My eyebrows arch, impressed.

"Brilliant. That'll be loads useful. Thanks, Rose." She smiles and nods.

We decide it's time to head to the dormitories. I follow James, Duncan, and Albus towards the boys' stairs, but someone grasps me from my shoulder and I turn around. Rowena is standing there, her head slightly bowed with her unruly black ringlets falling about her shoulders and framing her face. Her expression is contorted with concern and I knit my eyebrows together.

"I really don't think it's a good idea to hang around Pucey," she says. My body deflates inside as I mentally groan. I still can't believe she's against the idea, when even _Rose_ agreed to let her tutor me. "She's a Slytherin and she's friends with Tatiana Higgs—and we all know _she's_ bad news. Being around someone who hangs around Tatiana just doesn't sound like a good idea."

"She's _different_ from Tatiana," I assure. "Trust me on that one. I even confronted her about it." Rowena raises her head and looks at me with a surprised expression.

"What do you mean? What happened? What did you say?" she asks all at once. I raise my hands, warding her off, and she bites her bottom lip, sheepishly looking away. "I mean, sorry … You go ahead and just explain it."

"Thank you." I sigh. "Anyway, basically the only reason why she hangs around Tatiana is because they're childhood friends."

"Yes, their fathers were friends during their Hogwarts years, plus they were both on the Slytherin Quidditch team," Rowena says. I arch an eyebrow. "My mother told me. I told you she knows a lot of gossip."

"_Anyway_, that's pretty much the reason why she still keeps her as a friend—because she feels too attached to her and their long-term friendship. I was suggesting that a friend like Tatiana isn't worth keeping, considering all that she does. I don't know if Kira's contemplating giving up their friendship or not, though." I narrow my eyes at Rowena. "And if I hear anybody else talking about this, I'll know who to come to with the loose lips," I threaten.

"I won't tell," she says quickly, shaking her head.

"Perhaps I should just Confund you to make sure," I suggest. She arches an eyebrow at me.

"Oh please, Cooper. I'm brilliant at spells. I could easily deflect it before you even finish muttering the spell." She shakes her head, her curly hair bouncing around. "Besides, I promised I wouldn't tell, alright?"

"Fine."

"I'll see you in the morning, then," she says before backing away and turning towards the stairs that lead to the girls' dormitories.

"Okay," I reply, waving goodbye before trudging up to my dorm room. When I open the door, I find Duncan's and Albus' lanterns still turned on. "You guys are still awake?"

"Well, Al and I were talking about you getting your studying done with Kira, and we really want you to get caught up with your sixth year classes," Duncan begins.

"So, I decided to agree to let you borrow something of mine. It's incredibly valuable and has been in my family for a couple of generations. My grandfather passed it down to my dad, who passed it down to me in my third year," says Albus.

"Well, what is it?" I ask impatiently. Albus leans over the side of his bed and picks up a shimmering cloth, hanging over both of his arms. I narrow my eyes at it, trying to get a better look at what it is. "What's that?"

Albus and Duncan exchange looks and grin coyly.

"That, my friend, is an _invisibility cloak_," says Duncan. My eyes widen to the size of dinner plates.

"A _what_?" I gasp. Albus stands from his bed and wraps the cloak around his body. Within mere seconds he's completely vanished. I'm stunned where I am. Duncan laughs at me. "That's _remarkable_! How'd your grandfather get something like that?"

"Dunno. Dad never told me, but I reckon he doesn't know either," Albus says as he lifts the cloak off of his head, which now appears to be floating. He grins widely at my new shocked expression. "But they're really rare. They can actually be made with the hair from a Demiguise—"

"A Dem-_what_?" I interrupt.

"A Demiguise is a creature that can make itself invisible," Duncan says bluntly.

"Right," Albus says with a nod. "Anyway, they can be with the hair from a Demiguise, or from an ordinary cloak charmed with a very powerful disillusionment charm. I think most people make their invisibility cloaks from disillusionment charms, since it's easier and more efficient, at least compared to making them from the Demiguise hair, since you have to be well-trained to even _see_ the little buggers."

"We won't learn about the Demiguise until seventh year Care of Magical Creatures, so it's not a surprise that you don't know what they are. We only know of them because of Rowena and her constantly informing us of trivia about creatures she reads in textbooks," sighs Duncan.

"So, anyway," Albus says, "getting back on topic, I wanted to lend this to you so you can sneak out of the common room after hours to meet with Kira to study. We figured you're going to need a lot more extra time than just meal times. The Invigoration Draught will really come in handy too."

Albus slips the cloak off of him, his body reappearing, and hands it to me. It's incredibly soft and silky, and I rub my cheek against it.

"The invisibility won't rub off of it," Albus snickers. I scowl.

"It's really soft," I mention. "Thanks so much. This will really come in handy."

"Just don't tell _anybody_ that you're using it. James and Lily don't even know I'm bringing it to school, otherwise they'd be asking me nonstop to use it," says Albus.

"I won't tell anybody, I promise," I assure. "What about Kira, though? I mean, she's going to wonder how I'm getting out of bed without being caught."

"Fine. You can tell her too. But swear her to secrecy, okay?" Albus stresses. I nod and gently fold the cloak up before putting it away in my trunk.

"I'll tell Kira to meet me in the courtyard tomorrow night so we can study," I say.

"The _courtyard_?" asks Duncan with a sly smile. "Under the moon and stars all alone? That's quite romantic." I glare at him.

"Don't even start that, Bell," I warn. He grins and shakes his head, reaching over to turn out his lantern.

"Well, gentlemen, I'm going to bed. Good night," he says before the flame dies. Albus' light is the only one lit and it's the only light in the room, other than the white moonlight streaming through only castle window in the dorm. I dress into my pajamas quickly and, once I climb into bed, Albus turns off his light.


	20. Chapter 20

_**Author's Note: **_I just wanted to say that I survived my first day of college! I'm officially a college kid, readers! I just thought I'd share how my first day of school went. It's a lot of fun! I really like my professors and my classes. ^-^ Anyway, I'd also like to give a shout-out to Brutie, my favorite Brit :3; I hope you're recovering well from your surgery! (: With that said, enjoy the chapter, and leave your reviews. (: Thanks, friends! -Michele. (:

* * *

**CHAPTER 20**

November 1 has finally arrived. The entire school is buzzing with excitement for the first Quidditch game of the year, particularly because it's a Gryffindor versus Slytherin match, and also because I—the new Parselmouth kid who came from living with the Muggles—am also a part of the team. Some people are even placing bets that I'm going to completely screw Gryffindor over, which isn't too comforting for me.

Dressed in my Quidditch robes, I join my friends at the Gryffindor table, Albus and Duncan flanking my either side. They, too, are dressed for the game, along with James, Lily, Everett Thomas, and Corey Coote, as we all gather at the table for a brief meal before the game begins.

"Are you excited, Aiden?" Rowena asks with a large smile. I can't help but grin widely, struggling to hide my excitement.

"I think the question is, are you _nervous_?" Albus chuckles, clapping a hand on my shoulder.

"He'll be fine," Duncan says, sitting down next to me as he grabs a biscuit from the basket in front of him. "He's been doing very well at practice."

"That's good to hear. Gryffindor will love the first win, especially because it's against Slytherin," Rose says.

"How will your girlfriend, Pucey, feel after we kick Slytherin's arse on the pitch, though?" James teases. Hugo, Albus, and Duncan join him in sniggering at me. I narrow my eyes with annoyance before rolling them.

"She's _not_ my girlfriend," I correct. "She's my tutor."

"Are you sure all you're doing is tutoring during those late-night visits?" James puckers his lips at me, making immature smooching noises. I scowl before snatching Duncan's biscuit from his hand and throwing it at James' face. James is too busy laughing to notice I've smacked him right between the eyes with a baked good.

"I think I'd know for sure what we were doing, thank you very much," I grumble.

"Well, I wouldn't be too surprised if Pucey didn't want to tutor you anymore after losing to us," Duncan chimes, reaching for another biscuit. "She takes Quidditch seriously."

"Ah, that's too bad. Aiden won't be receiving any congratulatory kisses from Kira after we win," Hugo jokes. I glare at him.

"It's okay. He can finally empathize with James, then," Albus retorts. "Kimi Nguyen wouldn't dare give him any congratulatory kisses either."

I smirk at James as he flushes red, scowling at his brother before slapping him upside his head.

"Shut up, prat!" he snaps.

"Honestly you two," Lily sighs, shaking her head.

"Anyway, it wouldn't really matter whether or not Kira wanted to continue tutoring Aiden if Slytherin lost the match," Rowena says.

"_When_ Slytherin loses the match—not _if_," corrects James. Rowena shakes her head.

"Aiden's caught up with his classes, finally," she says proudly, beaming at me. "It truly is remarkable. I have to admit, I didn't think she could do it, but she's outdone herself. I'd say she's earned my respect."

"Are you really caught up with your sixth year classes now?" asks Hugo in disbelief. "Blimey, I thought you wouldn't catch up at all."

I give him a deadpanned expression. "Thank you, Weasley. I'm thrilled to hear you had complete confidence in me," I retort sarcastically.

"How'd you do it?" asks Lily.

"Well, it was a _lot_ of reading. Kira basically made me read _all_ of the textbooks every night, and then she'd test me on what I'd read during our tutoring in the afternoon. She wasn't kidding when she told me I had to really work hard, but, I have to admit, it was well worth it. My homework became so easy, the professors were giving me more and more each day because I was finishing so quickly."

"He's truly brilliant, isn't he?" Rowena asks with a playful grin. The others are taken aback, amazed at my accomplishment. I feel rather proud, I have to admit. Having to survive on the Invigoration Draught for the past two weeks without getting so much as two hours of sleep each night has been dreadful. I'm actually lucky to have had the Draught handy, for I'd be a complete wreck without it. After this game, I'd finally have time to keep a normal sleeping pattern.

"I guess you really don't need her anymore," Rose says. "She _has_ done a great deal for you, though. It takes a real commitment to keep to a task like that, especially because she deprived herself of her own social life."

"She actually didn't mind, though," I say. "She found that tutoring me _relieved_ her from her crowd. She's a bit of an introvert, to be honest, even with her friends."

"Well, that's not too surprising. Everyone knows that Kira Pucey is even quiet amongst her circle of obnoxious friends," James says.

"As for the tutoring part," I continue, "she's agreed to help me study for my O.W.L.s. I talked with McGonagall not too long ago and she informed me that I would be taking them with the fifth years towards the end of the year."

"That's _if_ she wants to tutor you. Like I said, Pucey takes Quidditch hard," Duncan says.

"Kira's hardly the type of person to get hotheaded over losing at a sport," I say. "I'm sure no matter what happens she'll still want to tutor me."

"And what do her Slytherin twats for friends say about this arrangement?" James muses.

"They're not happy about it," I admit. "Especially Tatiana, but she's too attached to Kira to not be completely mad at her. I think she blames _me_ for Kira tutoring me, but of course I'm not surprised. Tatiana is a daft dimbo, anyhow." I roll my eyes at the thought of her.

"Well, we're glad you've figured that out now," Rowena mumbles.

"At least she's not bothering us anymore," James says. "I mean, despite her being utterly attractive, she is annoying and quite the sleaze. Not good company to keep. I suggest Kira find herself some better friends, unless she prefers to keep company like Higgs and Goyle, and even Zabini and Malfoy."

"I've already talked to her about it, but I didn't want to boss her around and tell her who she couldn't be friends with. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yes," Rose says, "and it makes sense. Kira will choose her own friends, and we'll just have to make do with that. Besides, it's not as if _we're_ friends with her anyway." She shrugs and my face drops, my lips pulling into a deep frown. Why _couldn't _they be friends with Kira? Did they just choose not to be friends with her, considering she was in Slytherin and, therefore, automatically dubbed an enemy to them? Was it because she was friends with Tatiana? True, that didn't give her good credibility, but _I'd_ gotten to know her over the course of these two weeks of tutoring. She was a really good person. Underneath that sarcastic and indifferent façade was a really fun girl. I actually enjoy being around her, and not just because she has a pretty face.

I knit my eyebrows together and look down at my plate, fumbling with my fork as I poke holes in the wooden table.

"Well, we should probably get going," James announces, shifting the subject back to the Quidditch game, and the butterflies of excitement return inside my body. "The game should be starting soon. Get yourselves good seats!"

The team rises from the table and we march out of the Great Hall, chatting amiably and excitedly. I glance towards the Slytherin table and see their team leaving their table as well. I spot Kira amongst the other Slytherin players, her petite body shrouded with the billowing green and silver Quidditch robes. She crosses her arms as she follows Braxton Zabini and Scorpius Malfoy out of the Hall, but not before her hazel eyes land on my grey ones, and her lips tug into a smirk. She combs a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear, the rest of her pin-straight locks pulled into a ponytail that swings between her shoulder blades. I smirk in return, holding my chin up high with pride. She arches an eyebrow before shaking her head, narrowing her eyes as she looks away from me, the smirk slowly disappearing.

"Ready to lose miserably, Potter?" sneers the arrogant voice of Scorpius Malfoy when we meet in the Hall, as both of our teams are headed towards the same direction. Malfoy grins snidely as he crosses his arms, Zabini following suite. James rolls his eyes and scoffs.

"As if, Malfoy. In case you didn't notice, we have a new Chaser, and he's brilliant," James retorts. Malfoy glances at me before glaring.

"Yeah, I heard you did. Bit of a prat, your new Chaser. Make sure he looks out for our Beaters. They'll gladly toss a Bludger his way," Malfoy snarls. I glare so hard that my forehead begins to ache, and I'm sick to my stomach realizing that this slick git is my half-brother.

"Resort to cheating and you'll be disqualified," Duncan says. "Although, that might do us all good." He smirks at him and Malfoy growls.

"Let's just go get ready," Kira says, pulling Malfoy away from my team. "We have a game to prepare for, in case you morons have forgotten."

"Pucey's right," Zabini says after. "We'll deal with them on the pitch." He mutters this quietly to Scorpius specifically, and Scorpius nods before shooting us a nasty look and turning on his heel.

"Right gits, all of them," sneers Lily. "And _you_ thought I was actually _interested _in Zabini." She barks out a humorless laugh. "How insulting."

"We're definitely going to beat them, and Malfoy is going to eat all of those stupid taunts, and I'm going to laugh my arse right off," James says. He claps a hand on my shoulder. "And we've got a brilliant new Chaser. Show them how the Muggles do it, Cooper."

"I don't think that would be a particularly good idea, considering Muggles know nothing about Quidditch," says Albus. James rolls his eyes.

"Oh, I wasn't speaking literally, you fool!" he exclaims. "Fine. Show them how the Parselmouths do it. Our new celebrity has made it into Gryffindor, _again_. First there was Dad, now there's you. Gryffindor must be the famous House."

"Oh James," Lily exasperates. "Just shut up!"

We head towards the Quidditch pitch, but not before he grab for our brooms in the shed. We wait for the stands to fill with the rest of the school, and, pretty soon, I can hear cheering and loud shouts. I squeeze my broom tightly, my arm-length brown leather protective gloves squeak. Lily nudges me from my side, grinning widely as she holds her Beater's bat and her own broomstick.

"Nervous?" she asks coyly. I roll my eyes.

"No way."

"I was extraordinarily nervous for my first game," she says. "Don't worry; it's okay to be nervous. In fact, it's completely natural. Just take deep breaths and think about the fun it'll be—and also the pathetic looks on those Slytherins' faces once we beat them in the first game."

I chuckle and James grins down at her.

"Feel free to smack one of those Bludgers towards Scorpius Malfoy's way," he suggests. She scowls.

"I'm not resorting to cheating. I don't play dirty."

"Relax, relax," he says. "I was just kidding—Oh! Time to mount your brooms, gentlemen … and _lady_." Again, Lily scowls, but everyone does as he says.

"You're going to do great," Duncan whispers in my ear as I grip the front of my broomstick tightly with nerves. I nod my head and grin in return, and, suddenly, the wooden doors are opened and James leads us into the air to begin the game. A loud wave of cheers erupts from the Gryffindor stands, and even those in Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, as we appear. I nervously look around, trying to focus on my flying rather than the crowds, but the excitement is so overwhelming, I can't help but glance at the stands.

Professor Spinnet calls all of the players to the center, and we circle around her in the air. She announces the rules and penalties before blowing on her tweeting whistle to start the game, throwing the Quaffle high into the air and unleashing the Bludgers and the Snitch. Immediately, everyone disperses, dashing towards their designated positions. James and Zabini dart after the Snitch while Kira and Albus return to the hoops for their Keeper positions.

I follow Duncan and Everett as they chase the Slytherin Chasers fly towards the Gryffindor hoops. Malfoy has the Quaffle securely tucked underneath his arm and his two other Chasers are tailing him, keeping guard so that we don't get to him. Duncan motions with his head to split up. Everett and I nod and we fly around the three Chasers. Duncan takes an underneath approach, flying below Malfoy. While Everett and I distract the other Chasers, Duncan comes up from below Malfoy, knocking the Quaffle right out of his grasp. Malfoy stops short, briefly dumbfounded by Duncan's slickness, and glares, snarling as he changes the direction of his route. I smirk smugly at him, and he catches it. Even from my distance I could see his nostrils flare with anger.

The Gryffindor House screams with excitement as Duncan takes the Quaffle and darts towards the Slytherin hoops. Everett and I tail him to protect his back, and Lily and Corey follow us, ready to throw any Bludgers out of our way. We approach Kira's hoops and, with a swift arm, he throws the Quaffle into the rightmost hoop. Kira glares and Slytherin teams hisses at us, but they're overpowered by the cheers of everyone else in the audience.

"Ten points to Gryffindor!" exclaims the scorekeeper, a fourth year Ravenclaw by the name of Lysander Scamander. Duncan flew back around as Kira threw the ball back in the pitch, high-fiving Everett and me as we chased after the Quaffle again.

We score a couple more goals before Slytherin finally scores one, but even after that we continue to score more. The score ends up being 300 to 210 Gryffindor before James finally catches the Snitch, giving us the win.

I have never heard so much cheering in my entire life, let alone for me. The stands erode with screams when Lysander announces that Albus had caught the Snitch, and the Gryffindor team flies around ecstatically. We give each other high-fives and, once we fly to the ground, we throw our arms around each other, squeezing each other tightly as the audience cheers for our House. I notice the Slytherins solemnly flying to the ground, Malfoy's face contorted with anger as he appears to be spouting profanities. He and Kira suddenly get into an argument, which causes Zabini to pulling them apart. I can't help but smile smugly, and Kira catches my gaze. Her eyes are narrowed, even when she looks at me, but she gives me a subtle nod and I know she's not angry with me. A wave of relief washes over me. I guess this still means she'll still want to help me with O.W.L.s tutoring.

We walk off of the pitch, both teams walking towards the broomstick storage. The Slytherin team is still giving us nasty sneers, while we're chatting amiably amongst each other. Malfoy leads his team of stuck-up sore losers, clutching a sleek familiar broom. My insides clench together as I realize what model it is.

"Oi, Cooper," he calls, his voice still dripping with venom. "Nice broom. Sunstorm 6000, eh?" He smirks, but it's not friendly. My eyebrows narrow.

"Yes," I answer curtly, clutching my broom protectively.

"Quite pricey, wasn't it? 'Course, _my_ father had no problem paying for it. Inheriting the Malfoy riches is quite beneficial." He sniggers with Zabini and the other Slytherin teammates. Kira appears to be the only one who isn't laughing, but rolling her eyes and frowning.

"So, Cooper," Malfoy continues. "You must come from a wealthy Muggle family, if you have enough money to pay for a Sunstorm."

I hold the urge to just blurt out that it was his father that bought me my broomstick, and all of my prime edition textbooks and robes. I want to rub in his face how dirty a bastard his father was, considering _I_ was the result of an affair, that _I_ was actually his half-brother.

I don't realize how tightly I'm clutching on to my broom until Duncan gently grasps my shoulder, looking at me strangely. Malfoy scoffs and smirks smugly.

"What a nutter," he mutters to Zabini. "Well, you guys got lucky today on the pitch anyway. Pucey isn't feeling too well today, hence her lousy performance."

I glare at him and step forward, growling as I bare my teeth. Kira glares at Malfoy as well, but once she sees my vicious expression her eyebrows knit together in curiosity.

"What is it, Cooper? What's got your knickers in a twist?" snarls Malfoy. Duncan tugs on my shoulder, pulling me back, and I reluctantly follow.

"I know you want to punch his face in, but don't do it," mutters Duncan. "It's not worth it. You'll be suspended from the team."

I still have the urge to hit Malfoy, but I don't, for Duncan's warning words stop me. We walk away, back to the castle, all of us anxious for a shower. The chatter amongst the other teammates grows again, but I look back to see the Slytherins, all of them smirking, while Kira gives me a small crooked grin.

"You were really going to hit Malfoy because he insulted Pucey?" asks James skeptically.

"_Kira_ is my friend," I say, putting emphasis on her first name, "and I stand up for my friends. I already learned the hard way not to stand up for them." Duncan grins at me, at Albus makes smooching noises from behind. I turn and glare at him, punching him in the arm and we fall into loud laughs as we walk back to the castle.


	21. Chapter 21

_Author's Note:_ I feel awesome because I have the next three chapters outlined. I know, I know ... I'm awesome, I'm awesome. Enjoy the chapter and leave your comments. Gracias! -Michele (:

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**CHAPTER 21**

Now that I'm finished with my extra courses, I have so much more free time now, it's wonderful. I don't have to stress about making room for both Quidditch practice and extra homework and studying. School is going so well for me. I've never been so good at it before, and I've never looked so forward to waking up in the morning to go to class. It's such a strange feeling. Coming to Hogwarts has definitely been the best thing that has ever happened to me—and I still blame Draco for keeping me away from it for the past five years because of his stupid son.

My professors are really impressed at how far I've come just over the course of four months. I get good marks on my homework and exams. Professor Lingley, Professor Slughorn, and others have even kept me after class just to tell me how impressed and how proud they are. I've never felt more confident in myself. I used to hate myself, hate my school and teachers and classmates, and I never believed in myself, all because I never had father in my life. I wonder if it really is because Draco came into my life. Maybe he _is_ the father I've always wanted; he just hasn't really proven it to me yet.

Kira and I have still been getting together during our free hours after class for O.W.L.s tutoring. I swear, with her tutoring, I'm ready for anything. I've been getting to know her a lot more as well, which has been really nice. The only thing that I don't like is that I still have to keep my secret from her. It's really too bad because Kira has really become someone I can rely on. I'm sure she wouldn't expose my secret, but the stupid voice in my head keeps telling me not to tell her, which is really annoying.

On Wednesday morning, I walk down the corridor to the Great Hall with Duncan and Albus, the three of us exceptionally late to breakfast. James had put us through a brutal Quidditch practice yesterday and we were still so sore from flying. Luckily he was giving us a break today, as the next game was wouldn't be until the end of November, so we had plenty of time to practice. On top of all of that, he was still so proud of how our team performed against Slytherin, and he had a hard time keeping his mouth shut when the Slytherins drew near.

As I rub my eyes out, suppressing a yawn before walking into the Great Hall, Duncan and Al stop in their tracks, and I look at them from behind strangely. It's then that I realize that stomping towards us is Scorpius Malfoy, flanked by his cronies, including Braxton Zabini, on the Slytherin team. I'm not surprised that the only person who isn't there is Kira, since she despises Malfoy just as much as I do.

"You'd best tell your pitiful excuse for a captain, Potter, to start keeping his mouth shut, or you can bet that we'll be making him eat his words," Malfoy snarls at us, pointing a finger in Albus' chest. Albus glares and rolls his eyes, pushing him away.

"Why? Still crying over _our_ brilliant win?" I pipe, smirking smugly. Malfoy's cold grey eyes divert to me, and they narrow into slits.

"Crying?" he repeats. "We'll see who's crying after I finish hexing your bloody body into oblivion, Mudblood."

It's my turn to glare, for I don't take too kindly to nasty names, whether they're from the magic world or not. I bare my teeth, my upper lip twitching as I dig into my robes' pocket for my wand, grasping it tightly and confidently raising it at him. His eyes widen with surprise.

"What was that name you just called me?" I seethe.

"Aiden, don't," Duncan warns, but I ignore him.

"You don't have the guts," Malfoy hisses. "You couldn't curse me even if you wanted to. You're a filthy Mudblood who shouldn't be here. _You don't belong_—"

The words tantalize my mind and I lose control over my actions. I recall the spell James casually told me—a severe curse that acted like an invisible sword, slicing the flesh until it was countered to stop.

_"It's supposed to be for 'enemies,'"_ he'd said, lounging on the armchair in the common room. _"Blimey, that's for sure. Dad said he'd used it once and couldn't believe what it had done to that Draco Malfoy. He warned us to never use it, or he'd pull us out of Hogwarts. Bit uptight, that old man. Honestly—why the bloody hell would I ever use a dangerous spell like that?"_

_ I would_, I mentally answer James' question. It was shocking to here that Harry Potter had used the curse on Draco, but I couldn't help but think he probably deserved it. I mean, the stories I've heard about Draco at school—it's no wonder he and Harry were never friends. Draco was a jerk, a bully, and I could tell that Scorpius was following his footsteps. Like father, like son.

Well, _I _wasn't going to be like my sorry excuse for a father. Just like I had told the Sorting Hat, I'm _nothing _like Draco Malfoy.

My lips mutter the dangerous curse.

_"Sectum—"_

And suddenly I'm shoved aside. I fall to the concrete floor, my body slapping the floor, and I look up to see Duncan hovering over me with a glare. The Slytherins are staring with shock and they try to suppress their urge to laugh at me.

"Duncan just saved your life, Malfoy," Albus snarls. "So before _I_ finish Aiden's curse, you better get out of here and stop bothering us."

Malfoy glares at him before sneering. "You're all pathetic, stupid Mudbloods." He turns on his heel and marches into the Great Hall, the rest of the Slytherin team falling quickly in step.

Duncan sighs and outstretches a hand, but I glare at him and help myself up.

"What the _bloody hell_ was _that_ all about?" I shout at him.

"You _know _how dangerous that curse is!" Duncan says. "Why in the world would you think to use it?"

"He's my enemy. The curse is used for _enemies_, remember?"

"It doesn't matter! You should never use that curse on anyone, no matter who it is," Duncan says.

"Aiden, the man who created that spell, well, he was a bullied kid in school. Never had any friends. Nobody liked him," Albus explains. "_Everyone_ was his enemy. He was angry and so he made that spell. That doesn't give him the right to use it anyway, but it definitely doesn't give _you_ the okay either."

"Who was the man?" I ask.

"His name was Severus Snape. He was a former professor here," Duncan says.

"Severus …" I repeat, and then look at Albus with wide eyes. "You're named after Headmaster Snape?" Albus nods.

"He turned out to be a great man, though," Albus continues, "so my dad says. But regardless, the spell is still dangerous. It's an incredibly Dark art."

"So just promise us you won't ever use it, okay?" Duncan says firmly. I stare at the two of them, and my glare slowly drops.

"He said I didn't belong," I mutter. "What if I don't?"

"Don't be stupid, Cooper!" Albus scolds. "You'd listen to an idiotic thing like that? Since when do you care about what Malfoy says?"

"And anyway," Duncan continues, "you're a wizard, and this _is_ a place for wizards. So don't be a moron and believe that crap. You _belong_ here."

Duncan's words stick for the time being, calming me down as we walk into the Great Hall, but throughout the course of the day, my mind drifts back to what Malfoy's said about me not belonging. Albus is right; normally I care what Malfoy says to me, but lately his remarks have been hitting me harder than they typically do. I'm wondering if it's because of the secret—that I'm really his half-brother—or what if he's getting suspicious of my relation to him? If that's the case, then he's right; I _don't_ belong … in their family. There's no room for someone like me, not when I don't exist to them.

However, when nighttime comes around, I'm still thinking about Scorpius' words, and I pace around the dorm room, shouting profanities and cursing him.

"He's _such_ a bloody prat! That bastard! He knows nothing about me. I'm just as much of a wizard as _he_ is! What makes him so special? Because he's so filthy rich? What a stupid bastard … _stupid_!"

"Yes, he is an idiot, but Aiden, you've really got to calm down," says Duncan, placing a hand on my shoulder. I shake my head and shrug it off.

"I can't. I hate that git. He thinks he's so slick and special, but he's slimy and a bloody snake! The Sorting Hat did him right by putting him in Slytherin," I snarl. Albus chuckles as he shakes his head, but Duncan gives him a stern gaze.

"Sleep it off," he advises. "We can't have you hotheaded for practice tomorrow."

"Are you kidding? If I go to bed now, I'll never fall asleep," I say. I start towards the door. "I need to take a walk."

"But it's past curfew!" Duncan calls.

"I won't get caught if I use the Invisibility Cloak," I mention, glancing at Albus. He purses his lips together and shakes his head.

"No way, Cooper," Albus says, and my eyebrows narrow. "I'm not risking getting it taken away. I could get into trouble for letting you use it, especially if you're wandering around after hours."

"But you let me use it when I was meeting with Kira!" I exclaim.

"Because I knew where you were," he says. "You just want to wander around the corridors." He notices my glare and shrugs. "I'm sorry, mate. You really should just sleep it off."

"No," I snap. "I don't need your advice right now." I storm out the door, ignoring the pleading calls from Duncan and Albus as I slam it behind me.

Fuming, I stomp out of the portrait hole, the Fat Lady commenting on my rage. I bite back a cruel remark before rushing down the moving staircase.

I reach the courtyard without running into any teachers or prefects, fortunately. The moon's light is beaming down on the cobblestone walkway, illuminating the stone fountain. The cool air nips at my cheeks and I sigh heavily, falling on one of the stone benches.

What if Scorpius is right? What if I really don't belong? For the past couple of months I had felt like I belonged, so why was someone like Scorpius Malfoy making me think differently? Was because it was _Scorpius Malfoy_ who was telling me—my unintentional half-brother?

I groan and place my face in my hands, slouching over. I can't stop thinking at how difficult it is to even understand myself now. I mean, I grew up wanting a father, understanding that mine was dead before I could even meet him, and then I'm thrown the "love-child" card. On top of all of that, my real father (who is very much alive) has his own family, leaving my mother and I to fend for ourselves. And he's bloody rich with a snobby son. I love Hogwarts with all of my heart, but these students have known about their magic ability since they were eleven years old, some since they were _born_, like Scorpius.

And then there's the whole deal with my being a Parselmouth. Where the hell does that trait come from? Could there really _have_ been another Dark wizard relating to Slytherin that tried to curse me, unintentionally giving me the ability, just like Harry with Voldemort?

Thinking about everything makes my head spin in vertigo, unable to grasp hold of what is fact and what isn't. I feel like my entire life is a big lie. I already know that I wasn't supposed to happen to begin with, and that doesn't help me feel better. What if I really don't belong anywhere?

For the first time in a long time I feel like crying, and I also feel so pathetic that I feel like crying. I can feel the hot tears stinging my eyes and I grumble under my breath for being such a child.

"Aiden?" A voice from afar calls curiously, and I freeze, my eyes wide behind my hands. I gulp and hastily wipe my eyes before looking up. My eyebrows knit together when I meet gazes with Kira. Her curvaceous figure is shrouded with an oversized and frayed black shirt and a pair of black pajama pants, a jacket draped over her shoulders with arms ending past her fingertips.

I look away, embarrassed, but I can tell we're both embarrassed with the situation we're in. She knows she's walked into something that she shouldn't have. When I briefly glance back at her, I watch her duck her head as she combs her long, pin-straight black hair behind her ear.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, a little more defensively than I intend. She purses her lips as she narrows her eyebrows.

"I could ask you the same thing," she replies. I roll my eyes and cross my arms, looking away.

"I'd like to be left alone," I say.

"Like a stubborn little school girl?" she snaps. I glare.

"What do you want? Why are you here?"

"I'm always out here," she replies. "I like to take walks under the moonlight. We do it every night."

_"We?"_ I repeat. Suddenly, a sleek Siamese cat with large emerald eyes jumped from a tree branch, landing cleanly on all four of its feet. It waltzed towards her, leering eyes glued to me.

"Dimitri doesn't take too kindly to strangers … or to anybody for that matter," she says. "I'm only interrogating you like how you interrogated me about Tatiana, and look how that turned out. The two of us are friends, and I've thought twice about hanging around Tatiana any longer." She walks towards me, wrapping her arms around her petite waist. "May I sit?" She motions towards the stone bench and I finally agree to give her space, nodding my head to let her sit. Dimitri follows her footsteps, jumping onto the bench and curling into a ball on her lap. He rests his head on his two front paws while his eyes are still leering at me.

"So, are you going to tell me what's going on?" Kira asks gently. "I'm not stupid—I can tell you've been crying, so something _really_ must be wrong."

"Life," I say, shaking my head and shrugging my shoulders.

"Okay … Could you be a _little_ more specific?"

"I just don't understand my life at the moment," I sigh. "This barely finding out I'm a wizard, the ability to speak to snakes … I feel like I'm living a big lie."

"Why do you say that? I mean, we've been in school for three months already. It hasn't sunken in yet?"

"This is a _life-changing_ thing for me, Kira," I say to her. "I'm not going to get over it in just a few months. I mean, you—you've _known_ you were a witch since you were born, haven't you? You're pureblooded, right?"

She strokes her cat as she bobs her head in a nod, her straight-across bangs falling over her visage.

"Yes, I have."

"So you have _no_ idea what's it's like to have something as monumental as this sprung on you. Kira, I found out I was going to be attending Hogwarts a _week_ before I even knew what the hell a Hogwarts was, before I was told that wizards and sorcery was more than just that in fairy tale books."

Kira looked down at Dimitri solemnly, her black fingernails stroking his short tan fur.

"When I was little, I thought that parents were supposed to love each other, that they were supposed to be devoted to each other," she starts softly. "When I realized the real reason my mother married my father, I was confused. It went against all marriage ethics in my book. In order to be married, you had to love each other." I watch her sigh heavily and she cocks her head, her hair falling over her shoulder. "My mother really doesn't love my dad. Sure she thinks he's handsome, but she's only with him because he can support her, being a famous Quidditch player and all. When I found out where her heart truly lied, I was disgusted, shocked, _ashamed_ even."

"Draco Malfoy," I mutter. Her head darts up and her eyes stare at me inquisitively. It's then that I remember that I'm not supposed to know that. "I've heard stuff."

"I wasn't aware there were rumors about my _family_ going around the school," she sneers, rolling her eyes with disgust. "Wow, this place has _really_ got some class."

"Have you ever met him—this Draco guy, I mean?" I ask.

"Yeah, I've met him," she replies nonchalantly. "He's nothing like _my_ father. My father is brilliant. The Malfoys are a bunch of snobby rich folk. Some lot. It's no wonder Scorpius turned out the way he is. He's spoiled rotten."

"Not hard to believe," I mutter.

"Mother hates the Malfoys, even Draco," she continues, "but she's still so sickly obsessed with him, it annoys _me_ even. My mother is so pathetic." She rolls her eyes. "She even told me to strive to be far more superior and smarter than Scorpius in everything we do—which really isn't that hard, considering I _am_ superior and smarter than that git—and even start rumors about him, and even Draco. She wanted me to start rumors that he's cheated on his wife and rubbish like that." My eyes widen, thinking how ironic that rumor truly was.

"Have you started any rumors?" I ask. She gives me a look.

"I'm too good to start rumors about someone as petty as Scorpius' _father_," she says. I chuckle and grin crookedly.

"Yeah, that's true," I say, shaking my head. Kira grows a small smile in return, and we glance down at Dimitri. "He doesn't take too kindly to people, huh?"

"I'm afraid not. He's my little demon," Kira chuckles. Hesitantly, I outstretch my hand towards the cat's head, and Kira arches an eyebrow. She watches the cat intently, just as intently as the cat is watching my hand. Slowly, I reach down and my fingers graze his silky fur. I continue to scratch behind his ears and Kira scoffs as Dimitri begins to purr. I grin widely and glance up at Kira.

"Bloody hell," she mutters, shaking her head.

"I guess I'm an exception," I say.

We continue sitting together as I scratch Dimitri's ears, letting the cat's purring fill the silence between us. Confiding in Kira has helped me forget about Malfoy's words, and I'm happy that she's trusted me enough to confide in me too. And after hearing how devoted she is to her father, I wonder if maybe she really isn't another love-child of Draco. Maybe she isn't another half-sibling of mine. God, I really hope she isn't.

My happiness is short-lived when the same hissing voice travels through my ears.

_"Aiden …"_

My eyes widen and I look around.

_"Aiden …"_

I stand up immediately. Kira and Dimitri look up at me, alarmed, and the hissing voice chuckles.

_"Aiden Malfoy …"_

"I have to go," I say quickly and I dart into the corridor.

"What? Aiden! Wait!" Kira calls, and I turn back. She's looking at me strangely. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," I say. "I've just got to go."

"You're not making any sense," she says.

"I'm sorry, I just—I _really_ need to go."

"Well, really quick then …" she says before she pauses briefly. "I—uh, well I was wondering … It's a Hogsmeade weekend this weekend. Would you want to go?"

Her words are rushed and I can immediately see the blush that's taking control of her cheeks. I can't help but smile at her embarrassment.

"Absolutely," I say with a nod. She looks up, wide eyes, and smiles shyly. "I'll see you later, Kira!" And with a quick wave, I turn on my heel and dart down the hall.

"Okay, Parselmouth," I mutter to the hissing voice. "You keep calling me. I'll go where you want me to go." I hear its chuckle again.

_"Follow my voice, Aiden Malfoy … Follow … me … You know where to find me."_


	22. Chapter 22

**CHAPTER 22**

Just like Harry had told me during our meeting, the voice takes me towards the girls' lavatory on the second floor. It's a dank and cold bathroom, treated as if nobody uses it. I'm hesitant before I enter it, for I'm sure despite how desolate it is, boys are still forbidden to enter girls' lavatories.

As I walk inside, I'm immediately met with a large circle of sinks, the mirrors shrouded over with dust and dirt from time and lack of cleaning. There are a line of toilet stalls on the other side, but I'm not interested in checking out the dirtiness of them.

My footsteps echo off of the concrete floor, and there is a distant dripping from one of the sinks. There is a grim aura pulsing from the lavatory and I wonder if it's from the Parseltongue-speaking voice. The voice is gone, but I continue calling out to it, mentally and physically.

"Harry said it was here," I murmur, "that the Chamber of Secrets is here. But where?"

I circle the sinks, running my hands along the brims of the old porcelain basins that have long lost their sheen. The voice has stopped talking to me, and I imagine it mocking me with its cold shoulder. I stop in front of one of the sinks, glaring at my foggy reflection as I grip the rim of the sink tightly.

"Come _on_, damn it. Talk to me."

Suddenly, the doors to the bathroom slam open and I widen my eyes, dashing towards the bathroom stalls. As I quietly shut my door, climbing on top of the toilet seat to hide my feet, I begin to hear moans and giggles. My eyebrows knit together with disgust and puzzlement. Who in the world has come in here and what are they doing?

Pairs of footsteps scramble towards my direction and I peer through the small crack in between the post of the stall and the door to look outside. A pair of entangled bodies slams against the closed stall across from me, and I immediately recognize the blonde and brunette-haired girl and the tall chocolate-skinned body hovering over her to be Giselle Goyle and Braxton Zabini.

My eyes widen, completely taken aback by the sight of the two of them sucking each other's faces off. In fact, I'm not even sure why I'm still watching them, especially as I witness Braxton's hands slide up Giselle's shirt. I feel thoroughly repulsed with myself, thinking about how I've reduced myself to a peeping Tom.

Braxton's lips are now traveling down Giselle's neck and she tilts her head back with a moan, extending his name into many syllables.

"Oh, _Braxton_!"

I guess I figured that Goyle and Zabini would hook up, considering how during the days I used to spend with the Slytherins, she was constantly batting her long eyelashes at his smug expression. The sight of them sneaking into the girls' lavatory past curfew is just what shocks me, although I'm not entirely sure why. The two of them appear to be students who constantly sneak out of bed, but maybe it's because they've chosen their secret rendezvous to make-out as a grimy old bathroom. Not entirely romantic, nor sanitary, but to each his own, I suppose.

My legs begin to ache as the pair continues snogging for another half hour. I've had my fill on the scene and lean back against the wall the toilet is up against, perched uncomfortably upon the seat in a crouching position. I've already glanced down into the bowl, and I refrain from gagging to prevent any suspicion of unwanted guests from Goyle and Zabini. However, by the looks of it, I don't think even a bloody crowbar can pry those two apart. They've created themselves a human pretzel, the way they've entangled themselves in each other's arms, and Giselle's legs have even knotted around Braxton's waist.

I'm tired of hearing their erotic moans and sloppy kisses, swearing constantly in my head at the two of them, and also to any god that bestowed this fate on me. As if I truly wanted to spend my night stuck in a bathroom stall in the girls' lavatory while two people I considerably hate suck face. It's bloody unfair and ridiculous. Not to mention the voice hasn't returned at all and I have nothing to lead off from. This entire trip was a complete waste. I could still be with Kira in the courtyard, confiding in her.

However, this all leads back to Scorpius being a complete prat this morning and saying those stupid things to me, and me foolishly letting them get to my head. If only Malfoy had kept his mouth shut, I wouldn't have had any reason to cool my angry head off during my nightly stroll. None of this would have happened.

"Don't you have the decency to do that _someplace else_?" shrills a new voice, and my head suddenly snaps up. I peek out of the slim crack and I notice Braxton and Giselle have stopped snogging. They're looking towards the side, at the new voice, I presume, and I unfortunately can't see who it belongs to, but judging by the annoyed expressions on the Slytherins' faces, they aren't happy to see their interrupter.

"Sickened by the sight, Myrtle?" Giselle sneers. "Or maybe you're just jealous. After all, you probably _died_ a virgin, didn't you?" She snickers.

_Died?_ I thought.

"Nobody asked _you_!And nobody wanted to watch the disgusting show you were putting on, Goyle," the voice, Myrtle, replies, her voice high-pitched and quivering, as if she were about to burst into tears at any second from being insulted.

"Shame. I thought we were putting on a rather _hot_ show," Braxton inputs, arching an eyebrow as he faces Giselle, and their smiles return to their faces.

"If you don't get out of my bathroom, I'll call Professor Lingley!" Myrtle squeals. "What's a _boy_ doing in here to begin with? _You_ don't belong in my bathroom!"

"You do realize that this bathroom doesn't necessarily belong to you," Giselle snaps rudely. "Just because you died in here doesn't make it your property."

Myrtle had died in this _bathroom_? How? I squint my eyes, and, suddenly, I'm taken aback when a floating transparent figure of a dark-haired girl sporting pigtails and old robes flies in front of Giselle's face, mere inches away from her. Since I can see through this ghost, I can also see Giselle's expression, who appears just as shocked as I am.

"It does _too_ make it _my_ bathroom! _I_ died in here! _I_ get to haunt this bathroom! _You_ are in no position to tell me otherwise!" Myrtle shouts angrily.

Giselle and Braxton exchange looks and they back away from Myrtle, soon scampering out of the bathroom. Myrtle watches them leave as well and, as she turns, I lean back and away from the crack. My foot almost slips into the toilet when I jump as Myrtle calls out to me.

"Still hiding in there, peeping boy?" She turns towards my stall and floats right through it, appearing in the small stall with me. My eyes widen and, out of fright, I push through the door, walking right through Myrtle's transparent form. I shake my head, shuddering.

"I _wasn't _peeping," I finally say. Myrtle flies in front of me, just like how she did with Giselle, and I back a step away. I come to find how highly unattractive she is and can't help but agree that Giselle may have been right about Myrtle dying as a virgin. She has a squat form, and her eyes are peering out through thick glasses. Her skin is a landfill of pimples, and straight-across bangs are plastered to her forehead. I notice the patch on her robes and realize that she was once a Ravenclaw.

Her stern expression is replaced with a high-pitched giggle, one that matches her squealing voice perfectly. She moves closer towards me, smiling as she bites her bottom lip.

"Of course you were. I saw you. You were watching the two of them through the crack in the stall. You know, it's quite piggish to watch others snog the way they did," she replies in a sweeter tone, but repels me just the same. I glare at her and, as she gets a closer look at my face, her eyebrows jolt upward. "I know who you are! You're the new snake boy."

I'm taken aback by her name-calling. "_Snake boy_? I'm not a snake!"

"You speak the serpent language. That dreadful, ugly language. I _hate_ it!" Her rage contorts her sweet appeal and she glares, floating higher into the air. I want to dash out of the bathroom, but Myrtle appears to read my thoughts and flies over me to guard the door. I mentally groan. "What are you doing in my bathroom, snake boy?"

"Stop calling me that!" I snap. Myrtle's eyes widen. "And I didn't know this bathroom belonged to you. I was just—Never mind."

"You were just _what_?" Myrtle pries, crossing her arms.

"It's nothing of _your_ concern," I retort. Myrtle pouts with a glare, and suddenly she burst into weeps. My eyebrows knit together in confusion as I back away.

"Of course _you_ wouldn't share anything with _me._ Nobody _ever_ shares things with me. Nobody _likes_ me." Her weeps became louder sobs and moans.

"Who are you?" I ask.

"And _of course_ you wouldn't know who I am!" she sobs loudly, and I cringe, resisting the urge to cover my ears.

"Hey lis—Hey!" I shout over her sobs. "Look, I'm new here. I've only been at Hogwarts for a couple of months. I'm not exactly an expert on this place. Don't bloody blame yourself for me not knowing who you are. Just tell me your name."

Myrtle sniffles and slowly smiles. "I'm Myrtle. _Moaning_ Myrtle."

Moaning Myrtle. Why does that name not surprise me?

"Moaning Myrtle …" I repeat.

"And I know who you are, snake boy. You're Aiden Cooper, Hogwarts' latest Parselmouth. Is it true you really are descended from Salazar Slytherin?"

I roll my eyes. _"No,"_ I snap with annoyance.

"But you speak Parseltongue. Only descendants of Slytherin speak Parseltongue."

"Ever heard of Harry Potter?" I retort. Her eyebrows arch. "I may be in the same boat as he was."

"Harry Potter? Oh yes, I remember Harry." She swoons and swings her arms back and forth. "He was quite lovely. He even wanted to share my toilet if he ever died before leaving Hogwarts."

My lip curls with disgust. "Yeah, I'll bet," I mutter with sarcasm.

"And yes; he _also_ was a Parselmouth. And the only reason he ever came in here was to get into the Chamber of Secrets." My ears perk up.

"The Chamber of Secrets, you say?"

"I _knew_ you were only interested in finding it!" she growls. "You're a Parselmouth. That's all you care about—finding the Chamber!"

"Are you saying you know where it is?" I ask.

"Of _course_ I know. I _died_ in this bathroom, remember?"

"The Chamber of Secrets killed you?" I ask curiously, thinking back on what Harry had said about the Chamber being dangerous.

"No. What came out of the Chamber was what killed me," Myrtle retorts. "Seventy-nine years ago, a boy came in here speaking a funny hissing language. I was distraught about being teased by Olive Hornby and I when the boy came in, I was going to tell him to go away when suddenly I just … died."

My eyebrows arch skeptically. "Just like that? You _died_?"

"Something came out of one of the sinks," Myrtle says, eyeing the circle of basins. "Something large with great yellow eyes."

I turn towards the sinks and begin searching them, looking for a clue to the entrance of the Chamber. "Which one, Myrtle? Which sink did it come out of?"

_"You're asking the Mudblood for help to find our Chamber?" _

My back straightens as I freeze, my ears perking up once again. The voice has finally returned and I look around, hoping to see who it belongs to.

"Where are you?" I whisper. "Where is the entrance?"

_"Locate what you represent, then you will find what you seek."_

"Now you're talking in riddles?" I snap out loud.

"I am _not_ talking in riddles!" Myrtle pouts.

"I wasn't talking to _you_," I snap.

_"Ignore the Mudblood. She is petty." _

I roll my eyes and continue searching.

"Well, which sink was it, Myrtle?"

"Why do you want to know so badly? Are you that eager to unleash another dreadful beast on the Muggle-borns? You really must be related to Slytherin!" She bursts into another round of uncontrollable annoying sobs. I groan.

"Oh can't you just shut up? Stop being so sensitive!" I yell at her, but I should know better than to say something like that to an insecure girl like her. My shouting only makes her cry harder.

_"Talk to me, voice. Tell me where to find you."_

The voice chuckles in my head. _"Locate what you represent, Aiden Malfoy."_

I ignore the last name the voice has given me, searching desperately for the clue to the entrance.

"You're speaking that language … What are you saying?" Myrtle asks, sniffling. Are you talking to her?"

"Her?" I ask suddenly.

"Are you going to unleash that beast?"

"Who's _her_?" I demand. "Myrtle, have you seen anyone come out of the Chamber?"

"Not some_one_—some_thing_," Myrtle corrects. "_She_ isn't a _who_."

"What, then? Tell me, Myrtle. What is _she_?"

_"Don't ask _her_,"_ the voice snaps. _"Insolent Mudblood. To kill her again … Oh lovely …"_

_ "What are you talking about?"_ I snap angrily. _"She's helping me! More than _you_ are!"_

"What are you saying?" Myrtle asks.

_"Find our Chamber on your own, Aiden. You are the true one."_

_ "The true what?"_

"What's going on, Aiden Cooper?" asks Myrtle frantically. "Tell me or I will call a teacher!"

_"Who are you?"_ I ask the voice.

_"Shame you do not know me, for I know so much about you."_

_ "What? What do you know? Tell me!" _I beg, and I realize I am gripping the sink tightly once more. However, the voice only chuckles and fades away, leaving me in silence. My mind returns to reality and all I can hear now is Myrtle's constant blubbering and crying.

"Nobody tells Myrtle anything! Everybody hates me!"

"Will you _shut up_?" I roar. Myrtle falls silent for a few seconds, taken aback by my outburst, but then begins to cry even louder, I wouldn't be surprised if the entire castle heard her.

I sigh heavily, angry that I've gotten none of the answers I need. The stupid voice and stupid Myrtle haven't helped me find what I want. _Locate what you represent, then you will find what you seek._ What the hell is that supposed to even mean? Leaving Myrtle to her pitiful sobbing, I storm out of the bathroom and sneak back to Gryffindor Tower. There was only one way I was going to find out how to find the Chamber. I'd need to plan another visit with Harry very soon.


	23. Chapter 23

**CHAPTER 23**

The weekend finally arrives, which means we're allowed to go into Hogsmeade for the first time this year. Before I had no idea what a Hogsmeade was, and when I found out that I needed a permission slip to get into the village, I grew a little nervous. Professor McGonagall relieved me of the stress when she informed me that, in addition to my acceptance letter into Hogwarts, Draco also signed the permission slip sent with it, so I was allowed access into the village.

On Saturday morning, I join my friends in the Great Hall for breakfast, as usual. The Hall is buzzing with the excitement about the first trip of the year into Hogsmeade, and Duncan, Rowena, Albus, and Rose aren't excluded from this bunch. They're telling me of the wondrous shops and environment.

"Honeydukes is absolutely _lovely_," Rose says. "The sweets are to _die_ for."

"Zonko's has to be my favorite," says Duncan.

"But no joke shop compares to Uncle George's in Diagon Alley," Albus adds. "And that's saying something because Zonko's is a bloody awesome shop."

"What about Madame Puttifoot's Tea Shop? That place is surely a romantic shop for a date," Rowena inputs, smiling widely at me, flashing her set of pearly whites. I force a smile in return before returning my attention to Duncan and Albus.

"So, what's at Zonko's?" I ask.

"Brilliant pranking and jokester accessories," Duncan says. "We _must_ check it out when we go."

"The lake is nice too," says Rose. "There are great views of the Black Lake from the hilltop. The water tends to look beautiful during the colder seasons."

As we continue discussing the village, the post arrives, owls flying in through the window near the ceiling of the Great Hall, carrying letters and packages and swooping down to deliver them to whom they're addressed to. For the past few weeks, I've been receiving mail from Draco, secretly, of course. He's been using a different owl from the royal and purebred owls of Malfoy Manor to help cover his tracks. He always sends me money, with the occasional note of _hope you're doing well, love Dad_, but it's only to earn my forgiveness for him, I know. Besides, I don't even refer to Draco as Dad, and he knows it. The money is nice, though.

As usual, the tawny barn owl from Draco arrives and drops a heavy envelope in front of me. I can hear the gold inside clinking together from the impact. With the money I've saved up, I'll probably have enough for a shopping spree in Hogsmeade today. Maybe I can even take Kira to that Madame Puttifoot's shop on our date.

Well, if she _wants_ to. I'm not entirely sure if she's considering this outing together a date or not.

"More money from home, huh?" asks Duncan. "I'll bet you have a gold mine saved up already. You've been getting money every week the past three weeks. How much do you have now?"

I open the envelope and peer inside. Gold and silver coins slide inside and I grin softly to myself.

"I reckon a hundred galleons," I say with a shrug, and the others widen their eyes. "Well, that's just an estimate."

"But I believe it!" exclaims Rowena. "Goodness, you should treat us all to lunch in Hogsmeade."

"I second that," Albus says, raising a hand. I roll my eyes.

"I'm not treating anyone to anything," I snap. "Besides, Al, isn't your dad some celebrity in this world? You should have plenty of money yourself!"

Albus rolls his eyes. "My dad doesn't have loads of money because he's a celebrity; he has loads of money because he's head of the Auror department in the ministry, that's all."

"And your grandparents left him loads while he was still in school," Rose mentions.

"Well yeah, that too."

"Anyway, it's good that you've been saving up, Aiden," Rose says. "You'll probably want to buy lots of things while we're in the village. Like we said, it's really a fascinating place. A cute little rustic town."

"Perfect for dates," Rowena adds, winking at me. I narrow my eyes at her, pursing my lips before sighing, but my eyes divert towards the Slytherin table, hoping to spot Kira amongst her Housemates. She's sitting alongside Tatiana and Giselle, her gaze seemingly uninterested in what the other two are chatting about. I don't blame her, though, especially while Braxton Zabini can't seem to take his eyes off of Giselle's figure. Seeing Kira uninterested in the conversation makes me think back on that day we ran into each other in the library, the day she agreed to help tutor me to get me caught up with my sixth year classes. I'd badgered her about her friends, wondering why she still hung around them if she didn't like them. I wonder how close Kira and Tatiana are now, if Kira's decided to make other friends and finally part from her childhood counterpart.

Kira's hazel eyes suddenly glance at me, as if she already knows that I'm looking at her. Her lips turn into a small smile and I can't help but smile in return. Inside I'm actually really excited to go to Hogsmeade, especially with Kira. I have yet to tell my friends that I'll be spending my time with her, though. They're still under the impression that I'll be spending time with them. Hopefully they won't mind me going with Kira.

My eyes begin to divert away from her, but something else catches my eye, or rather, someone. Scorpius Malfoy's narrow grey eyes are glaring at me, his eyebrows knitted together with suspicion. I'm not taken aback even though I should be. He's been staring at me like this since I first started getting money from Draco. I'm wondering how much Draco's covered his tracks. If Scorpius catches on, he's in big trouble. For some reason, though, this is slightly unsettling, but I don't show it.

James arrives at the Gryffindor table, strutting towards us as he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans. As he walks towards us, he glances towards the Slytherin table, and I know he notices Malfoy staring at me. James' eyebrows stitch together in puzzlement.

"You realize that Malfoy's staring at you like you've just won the richest wizard of the year award," James mentions as he sits beside me. I roll my eyes and shrug.

"He's been doing it for the past couple of weeks," I say. "Maybe he has another wand up his arse." Duncan and Albus choke on their food and burst into laughter. Rose and Rowena exchange glances and look slightly disgusted at the image I've just planted in their head. James shakes his head and chuckles.

"I suppose. Have any idea of what's been eating him?" he asks. I _do_ have an idea, but I'd rather not explain it, for it could really cause chaos. Now that I'm suspecting that _Scorpius_ is suspecting something about my money, I'm wondering if I really do care if Draco's secret is spilt or not. I still have no desire to welcome him into my life, as he deliberately kept out of it all of these years, but if Scorpius were to find out that his father had another son, I wonder what effect it would have on him. I imagine it would be harder for him, considering that Draco's been in his life and hiding a secret so drastic from his family … well, I know how it feels, and it's not pleasant.

I shrug and shake my thoughts away. I still have no respect for Scorpius either, but I do slightly pity him. After all, his father's hiding a huge secret from him—one that could change his life in a millisecond.

"None. He's stupid. It doesn't surprise me that he's staring at me with a dopey face like that," I say.

"Well, Potter," Duncan chimes. "How was Ravenclaw table?"

"Oh yes," Albus inputs. "Tell us how asking Kimi Nguyen to Hogsmeade turned out?"

When James smirks, the rest of us know that it went well, which Duncan and Albus continue teasing him about, since Kimi has rejected James for years, according to Albus. I'm grateful for the topic change. I don't want to spend any more time concentrating on Draco or Scorpius or the secret leaking. It's putting too much strain on my thoughts and I don't want to wonder whether my feelings for them are changing or not. No—I _know_ they're not, but there's that stupid little voice in the back of my head that keeps questioning it.

_Do I really care about Draco or Scorpius?_

The answer is obviously _no_, I _don't_ care about either of them. At least I think it is.

No, I'm sure it is.

This bloody damn feud inside my head is really starting to bother me. I shake my head physically and begin concentrating on James' voice, how he repeats the entire scenario of how he asked Kimi to Hogsmeade with him—on an actual _date_—and how she said yes.

I guess now would also be a good time to tell the others that I, too, had myself a date to Hogsmeade … well, at least I think it might be a date.

"That's great, James," I say when he finishes his story. "It's nice that Kimi finally accepted you."

"Now there's a good man, Aiden!" he exclaims, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "Gentlemen," he says to Duncan and Albus, "you might want to start taking after Aiden Cooper. He knows how to get on my good side. You two, on the other hand, are really starting to piss me off with your doubts and teasing."

"Oh come off it, James," Albus says with an eye roll. "It's fun to tease you. You need to stop being so uptight about it."

"And, I'd just like to take this time to say that, while James has a date to Hogsmeade, so do I," I input, but then quickly add, "Well, maybe a date. I'm just going with someone." The three boys cock stare at me inquisitively while Rose and Rowena jump back into the conversation, their eyebrows knitted together. Rowena looks a little more peeved than usual.

"Are you?" James asks with interest. "And who might this lucky lady be?"

"Uh … Kira Pucey," I answer.

"From _Slytherin_?" asks Rowena incredulously.

"Yes. She _is_ the only Kira Pucey in the school, isn't she?" I ask sarcastically.

"When was this decided?" asks Duncan.

"And why haven't you mentioned it to us?" Albus adds.

"I, uh—well it was sort of a spur of the moment type of thing. That night while I was strolling about the castle, I ran into her."

"You ran into Kira Pucey after hours? You do realize that you could have gotten points taken away from us!" Rose exclaims. I roll my eyes.

"Please. That's hardly the point," I say. "Anyway, we talked for a while. Then she asked me if I wanted to go to Hogsmeade with her, and I said yes."

"Mate, you've _definitely_ got yourself a date," James says, slinging his arm around my shoulder. "But are you sure about hanging around with those Slytherins? I mean, considering your history with them—"

"Kira's different," I interrupt with assurance, "I know it."

James shrugs as he removes his arm. "Well, to each his own. If you're interested in Slytherins, then so be it. Now, if you excuse me, gentlemen, ladies, I've got a date to prepare for. See you in the village." He stood from the table and strutted out of the Great Hall.

"So, I guess you won't be joining us for a tour of Zonko's or Honeydukes," says Albus.

"I can bring her along," I say. "I mean, maybe she won't mind it."

"No way, mate," Duncan says, shaking his head. "Don't do that. It's a _date_."

"But we're only friends, so it's not like it'll be romantic or anything."

"Not unless you _make_ it romantic," Albus says.

"Have you been taking tips from your brother?" I ask him. He chuckles and shakes his head.

"Just be careful, Aiden," Rose says. "We've already experienced one disaster with one of them. We don't want another."

"Like I said, Kira's different," I say. "And there's no way I'm letting her come between my friends. That's the last time I'm putting a girl before my friends. Not worth it let me tell you."

They silently agree, or at least shrug and nod their heads, hoping that I'm right as we continue with breakfast. When we're finished, we file out of the Great Hall. I suddenly hear my name called when I walk out into the corridor.

Kira is standing a few feet away. She's making her way towards me and my friends watch us with curiosity. Kira looks around me, arching an eyebrow.

"Are your friends always this nosy?" she asks. I turn and shake my head.

"Just ignore them. What is it?"

"It's about Hogsmeade," she starts.

"What about it? We're still going, right?" I ask, a little too quickly. She arches an eyebrow and chuckles.

"Yeah, of course," she says, and then slightly blushes. "I, uh, just wanted know where we should meet. Should we gather in the courtyard before the path to the village?"

"Uh … where exactly is that?" I ask.

"Oh, right. New student. Um, how about in our courtyard, the one we usually meet at?" she asks.

"Yeah, sure. Sounds good," I say, scratching the back of my head.

"Okay. Good," she says in return and there's an awkward silence the settles between us. I quickly break it.

"I guess I'll see you soon? Maybe ten minutes?"

"Yeah, sure," she says with a nod. We then softly say our farewells and back away. Tatiana and Giselle exit the Great Hall and notice me talking with Kira. Tatiana's eyes are widened, and she appears furious.

"Kira!" she calls in a demanding tone. Kira turns around and, looking back at me, rolls her eyes, but she follows Tatiana and Giselle back to their common room. I shake my head. Hopefully Kira will soon decide to ditch the dimbo duo completely and find new friends to hang around. I have no problem sharing my friends with her, to be honest. And, quite frankly, I hope she wants me to share my friends with her too.


	24. Chapter 24

**CHAPTER****24**

Clouds begin rolling in as the large crowd of Hogwarts students walks in clusters on a cobblestone path into the village of Hogsmeade. The weather has really gotten chilly when noon hits, and I'm glad I've bundled myself up in a thermal, a thick knitted sweater, gloves, and a scarf. I've pulled a knit cap over my head as well, tugging it so it will cover my ears.

Kira walks beside me, her long black hair swaying behind her delicately, a deep violet bow styled into it the back of it. She's dressed in mainly black clothing, complete with leggings, a Victorian coat with ruffled cuffs and silver buttons, and lace-up leather boots.

Unlike the others around us, we're quiet. I'm not sure if the silence between us is annoying the hell out of me, or if I'm actually enjoying keeping to my thoughts. I guess it's a little of both.

Kira wraps her arms around herself as we enter the village. She sighs heavily.

"Well, where would you like to go first?" she asks suddenly, her gaze still directed in front of us. I'm actually glad that my friends have filled me in about the shops in the village because I don't want to sound like a clueless imbecile to Kira.

"I hear Zonko's is a brilliant shop," I say. Kira's eyebrows knit together and she purses her lips. My stomach deflates, as if a rock had just been dropped on it.

"I guess it has its charms for _some_ people," she says. "I myself am not a fan. Bit childish and immature in my opinion." She briefly glances up at me and I struggle to keep a straight face, as if I haven't just been humiliated by her. I wonder why I get so easily embarrassed in front of Kira. I forbid any affectionate thoughts, but those are really the only ones that make the most sense. Still, I remain in denial, not focusing on affectionate thoughts for her.

"'Course," I say casually with a shrug. "I mean, I've never been, but just based on what I've heard …"

"You can't always go by what you hear," Kira states matter-of-factly. Her comment automatically makes my eyebrows narrow. I realize she's indirectly insulted my friends, and I promised them that I wouldn't put girls before them any longer, even if the girl was Kira Pucey.

"My _friends_ were the ones who suggested the shop to me," I snap back at her, "and I do trust what they say."

Kira's eyebrows rise to her hairline after my retort, looking taken aback. I sigh and shake my head.

"Sorry, that was uncalled for," I mutter.

"It's okay," she says, surprisingly in a calm and understanding tone. "I guess I just don't really know what it's like to have real friends anymore. Sort of forgot since you suggested I ditch Tatiana, you know?"

"You make that sound terrible—"

"No," she interrupts, a subtle smile spreading across her face. "Really, it's okay. Even though I don't really have friends anymore, in my eyes, at least I'm not parading around with the wrong sort. You were right."

"Well, you know, I consider you my friend," I mumble. Kira smirks and shakes her head, combing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I appreciate it."

We're quiet again as we walk through the village. I gaze in awe at the rustic buildings and magical items being displayed. Witches and wizards of all ages are mingled in with Hogwarts students, bustling about from shop to shop. I stuff my hands in the pockets of my slacks while Kira hugs herself tighter. The silence between us has gotten too uncomfortable.

"Would you _really_ like to check out Zonko's? We can if you'd like," Kira finally says. I can hear the slight guilt in her tone for shooting down my option earlier.

"We don't have to," I reply.

"But you were curious. Besides, you've never been here before. You should get the full experience while you're here."

I shake my head and manage a half-smile. "Alright."

Kira leads the way towards the joke shop, which I can see from many feet away that it is packed. A large group is gathered out the door, just anxious to get inside. My eyebrows knit together with curiosity.

"Is it always this crowded?"

"I wouldn't know. I don't normally come here," she responds, but there is no rude tone to her words. She actually flashes me a small smirk before she hooks her arm through mine and pushes through the crowd. I can feel my cheeks heating up from her closeness and I struggle again to push away any affectionate thoughts surrounding her. I just want a friend, and I'm sure that's what Kira wants too. Besides, I had already dated her former friend; I think dating me would be out of the question for her.

We finally get inside, but it's much more crowded than the doorway. I'm pressed against a couple of other teenage wizards, who are too busy drooling over some curious artifact to notice me.

"It's so bloody crowded!" I shout over the loud chatter and commotion in the shop.

"You wanted to come here!" Kira shouts back, tossing me an _I__told__you__so_ look. I roll my eyes and try to peer at the merchandise the wizard boys are looking at.

It is so bloody impossible to see anything in here. Everywhere I turn to look at some merchandise, a large group of bodies stands in front of me. I get annoyed and Kira notices, arching an eyebrow and smirking. After a much failed job at browsing, I reluctantly leave.

"Maybe later on in the evening the shop will empty," Kira suggests comfortingly.

"Ah, to hell with it," I say in return, tossing my hand in the air. "There will plenty of other visits to Hogsmeade, right?"

"Indeed," Kira says. "How about we check out Spintwitches? They sell sporting goods." At the sound of _sporting__goods_, my ears perk up and I'm suddenly not so disappointed that I couldn't enjoy Zonko's.

"A sporting goods shop?" I inquire. "Show me the way." Kira giggles, but she doesn't stop herself like last time. I also realize her arm is still hooked through mine and I can't help but grin. With our arms threaded together, Kira leads the way to Spintwitches.

The rounded window displays an assortment of fantastic Quidditch gear. My stomach flips with excitement and I feel myself grinning like a little boy in a candy shop. I practically press my face against the glass, staring with adoration the beautiful leather mitts and headgear.

"We can go inside if you'd like," Kira teases, nodding towards the door. I nod quickly and push past her, thrusting myself inside the store.

I am in love with everything about this store. The products, the sights, even the _smells_ are wonderful. Kira follows me as I travel through the store, laying my fingers on all of the Quaffles, the protective gear, and then, at last, the broomsticks. I stare in amazement, my eyes lingering on the fantastically handcrafted sticks and the neatly gathered bristles.

I spot my Sunstorm 6000 on the very top of the shelf, hanging high above the others like it is greater than the rest. But, technically, that's because it _is_ greater than the rest. The Sunstorm is the fastest racing broom to date, and I feel a whole new wave of pride for being an owner of that broom.

"Bloody hell. The boy wants _another_ broomstick," snarls a voice from behind. Kira and I turn around to see Malfoy and Zabini leering at us with crossed arms over their chests. Their chins are held high with an egotistic façade. "Shame he'll have to match my eight broomsticks if he wants to catch up to _my_ status."

"Trust me, Malfoy, I wouldn't _dream_ of it," I say with an eye roll. Suddenly, the shop has become tainted with the essence of motely Slytherin duo and I want to leave. I lightly push Kira in front of me to leave when Malfoy snaps at us again.

"Oy, Pucey! What kind of company do you plan on keeping anyway? How can you do this to Tatiana? Drooling over the bloody git that broke her heart," he snarls at her. I want to reel on Scorpius for talking with no disrespect towards either of us, but Kira beats me to it.

"As if that's any of your concern, Malfoy. Now if you would please keep your pointed nose out of my business, that would be brilliant," she snaps. Scorpius arches an eyebrow and sneers.

"Watch what you say, Kira. For all you know, you could be out of a Quidditch position next game—or perhaps for the rest of the year." Kira's eyes widen and I can tell Scorpius has hit a soft spot, and he knows it. He grins smugly and Braxton Zabini snickers like an idiot next to him.

_"__You__wouldn__'__t,__"_ Kira says darkly. Scorpius nonchalantly leans against the wall and examines his nails.

"Well, considering I _am_ captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, anything I say goes, really. I can kick you off any time, any _day_, I'd like to."

"Knock it off, Malfoy. I won't let you do that," I snarl. Scorpius exchanges surprised looks with Braxton before turning back to me.

"Oh really? And what will you _do_ about it?"

"I'll report you to Spinnet. She wouldn't allow that," I retort. Scorpius tilts his head back and laughs, which makes my blood boil.

"You have much to learn, Mudblood. I am _not_ afraid of Spinnet. Spinnet has no control over my power as captain."

"But Slughorn _does_," Kira pipes, and Scorpius tosses a dirty look at her. "We can report you to Slughorn if you keep it up."

"Who are you playing at, Pucey? Have you forgotten where your loyalties lie?"

"They don't lie with _you_, that's for sure," she spits.

"We are your Housemates. Cooper is a bloody coward from a cowardly House."

"Yet, ironically, my House is where the bravest are Sorted," I snicker. Malfoy glowers at me.

"My father is very involved with the ministry. He could sack yours at any second and then you won't be getting any more of that precious money from him," he sneers. His jeering reminds me that of a whining teenage girl. I suppose he isn't too far from one.

And little does he know that the two of us actually share the same father, and I highly doubt Draco would get rid of his own job under Scorpius' command. No one is that stupid.

I have the sudden urge to just blurt that we have the same father, just like I always do, but I hold my tongue. Scorpius seems to think he's won this battle, but I just let him think what his pea brain wants to think.

"I'm disappointed in you, Pucey. Hanging around trash like him? I thought you were better than that, considering you _are_ Tatiana's friend." Kira's lip twitches. "And how dare _you_ break her heart like that?" He reels on me now. "I always knew she deserved better, and I was right."

"Oh please," I say with an eye roll. "She's nothing but a floozy, she and Giselle." Scorpius and Braxton widen their eyes. Kira arches an eyebrow. "All she wanted to do was get into my pants, and that's all she'll want from you too. Then again, with you both, the feeling is probably mutual."

"How _dare_ you!" Malfoy seethes. The two of them whip out their wands and point them at me. Glaring, I do the same, but Kira protests.

"Stop Aiden! You can't duel inside a shop!" she exclaims.

"Who's side are you on, Kira? How can you stand to listen to this prat call your best friend a _floozy_?"

"She _is_ a floozy!" Kira retorts, much to everyone's surprise, even mine. I never thought Kira would so openly admit this, particularly to fellow Slytherins in league with Tatiana. "She knows she's a floozy too, so shut up with your moronic rubbish and just leave us alone, okay?"

"Just wait until Tatiana hears about this," snarls Malfoy.

"Yeah, like I give a rat's arse about what _Tatiana_ is going to say about that," Kira sneers, rolling her eyes. "Now go on, get! Run back to her like the sick little maggots you are."

The two boys glare menacingly at her before leaving the shop. I arch an eyebrow at her as she glares back at them. I can't help the smirk that's spreading on my face.

"I'm impressed," I say. "I didn't think you'd be able to stand up to them, especially because they're your circle of friends."

Kira rolls her eyes. "Do you know who I am? I'm Kira Pucey, for crying out loud. I don't need a circle of friends." She crosses her arms and shakes her head. "So many years of friendship with Tatiana have just gone out the window."

"Hey, well, I'm still here if you need a friend," I mention, nudging her with my elbow. She grins.

"I know."


	25. Chapter 25

**_Author's Note:_** Sorry for being MIA for BILLIONS OF YEARS, but my inspiration and will to write has been very low lately; it's been hard getting anything out. Plus I've been really into original fiction and I want to start writing more of that, but I can't POST anything because Fiction Press is being dumb and their document manager is completely screwed up. |8 POOP! Dx Anyway, enough rage. Again, sorry for the long absence. I really want to finish this story soon, since I'm nearing the end anyway. Leave your comments, please. Thank you! -Michele

_**PS:**_ CONGRATS, BRUTIEBOOTS, ON BEING PUBLISHED. I'M SO PROUD OF YOU! :'D (AND INSANELY JEALOUS AT THE SAME TIME! (Sorry, I had to release that outburst. x3) This chapter is dedicated to you. (: Plus, it revolves around your character, Kira, so you'll like it anyway. xD

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**CHAPTER 25**

Even after we leave the Quidditch shop after our encounter with Malfoy and Zabini I'm still left bitter. Kira narrows her eyebrows at me and scolds me for letting the two gits affect me like that, but I still can't help it. Once again I wish I would have just blurted the truth about his father—that he's a two-timing cheater with a second kid: me. If Kira knew the truth, she'd probably understand why Malfoy affects me so greatly, but something still keeps me from exposing Draco's secret, which irks me.

Kira gives me another tour of the village and soon I'm able to forget about our encounter. Our last stop on her tour is Honeyduke's, and, just like Rose had mentioned, it is a fascinating shop. Sweets of all sorts are displayed on shelves, counters, and even hanging from the ceiling. I treat Kira to whatever she likes, and after purchasing armfuls of goodies, we walk out of the shop. She eyes a lone bench overlooking the edge of the hill the village is perched on and leads me to it.

"Today's been really nice," she says, unwrapping a small piece of chocolate. "I mean, other than running into the snobby rich brothers." I scoff.

"Don't remind me. I'm having a good time," I say. I can see her cheeks reddening, and not just because of the cold air. Her lips turn into a half smile as she turns back facing in front of her.

"Alright. I won't remind you again." She chuckles and I reach over to comb a strand of hair behind her ear. As soon as I do this, I suddenly pause and knit my eyebrows together, concerned about where that urge came from. She cocks her head to the side, also knitting her eyebrows, but only briefly, for then she smiles shyly and places her hand gently over mine. My throat tightens and I can feel my own cheeks getting warm. I suddenly am overwhelmed with the desire to lean in, and I wonder if I'm imagining Kira already drawing nearer. Am I getting closer to her, or is she getting closer to me?

I notice her eyelids begin to subtly drop slightly, her long eyelashes struggling to reach the tops of her cheeks. Her slightly upturned nose is close to mine, almost touching, and I feel everything around us pause, as if the earth is standing still.

And then, just as quickly as the moment began, it ends as Kira's gaze absently drifts behind me, her eyes immediately widening with disgust. She backs away and I narrow my eyes, my eyebrows furrowing at her sudden change of behavior. I follow her gaze and turn around and suddenly my eyes widen with disgust as well.

I'm cursed with the unpleasant sight of Scorpius and Tatiana completely entwined with each other, a position much like Giselle's and Braxton's in the girls' lavatory the other night. Their lips are molded together, as if they're sharing on mouth, and I can even see their tongues squirming around when they briefly part.

I'm enraged, I'm disgusted, and I want nothing more than to push the both of them off of the hill.

"They're doing this on purpose," I snarl. "Tatiana is such a slut and Scorpius just wants to look good in front of me."

"Tatiana is jealous that I'm hanging around you more often, especially considering you are her ex-boyfriend," Kira inputs, cringing at the sight of them and quickly looking away.

"And Malfoy! I _knew_ he just wanted to get into Tatiana's pants. And in front of me! They are most definitely doing this on purpose. I can't believe how low and tacky they're getting just to piss us off."

"We should leave," Kira suggests, standing. "I can't stand to be around them any longer. They make me sick."

I stand with her and, taking one last look at them, storm off in disgust.

"I'm _sick_ of Malfoy and his antics. That git needs to go straight to hell, I tell you."

"I completely agree," Kira says.

"God. He's doing this because he's onto something. He's suspicious about where I've been getting my money." Kira arched her eyebrow.

"Why would Scorpius Malfoy be suspicious about where you're getting your money?" she asks.

I realize now that it's too late. I've said too much. But, for once, I don't even care. I've come to trust Kira wholeheartedly, and considering that she listens to me, and even ditched her no-good best friend since childhood, I know that she can help me burden this heavy secret.

"Because I'm getting it from his father," I say slowly. Kira stops and shakes her head.

"Wait, wait … I'm extremely lost. Why the bloody hell are you getting money from_ Draco Malfoy?_ I thought you were getting money from _your_ father?"

"I am," I say, waiting for her reaction. She gives me a blank face.

"What?"

"He _is_ my father," I say softly. "I'm Draco's son."

Kira stares at me with wide eyes. She shakes her head, her eyebrows furrowing.

"Wait … no. He only had one son."

"That's what he wanted people to think."

"And … all this time … And Scorpius doesn't know?" I shake my head. "Does his mother know?" I shake my head once again. "Oh God. And my mother wanted me to start rumors about Draco cheating on his wife." She scoffs.

"Well, they wouldn't be rumors," I say with a shrug.

"How long have you known?" she asks. I count briefly on my fingers.

"Since August."

"Since August … of this _year_?" she asks incredulously.

"Of this year," I confirm.

"Oh bloody hell. Maybe we should sit down. This is a heavy topic."

"That would be ideal," I chuckle humorlessly. As we sit on another bench next to a shop, I sigh heavily, ready to tell Kira everything I've hidden. Her face expresses genuine concern, her fingers weaving together.

"So," she says slowly. "You are a Malfoy as well."

"No," I immediately say, and she knits her eyebrows together. "I'm not a Malfoy. I'm not a part of his family. Hell, as far as I'm concerned, I don't _have_ a father."

"I understand," Kira says softly. "He wasn't in your life at all. I mean, you just figured out he was your father in August."

"I just figured out I even _had_ a father in August," I mutter. "My entire life my mother and grandmother fed me lies about my father being dead before I was born. _They_ knew my mother was the 'other woman' in Draco's relationship. _They_ knew I was a love-child.

"If Scorpius only knew that I was his half-brother, well, it would be a real slap in the face. He'd probably leave me alone because he'd realize his high and mighty father is really nothing but a low pig who sleeps around with Muggle women."

"That will really eat him, the Muggle part," Kira mutters. "So why don't you tell him?"

"Because Draco asked me not to," I say with disbelief at myself. Kira also doesn't understand this either.

"Why do you care? He never made himself a part of your life and now all of a sudden he announces that he's your father?"

"And that I'm a wizard," I add.

"God. That's terrible. I mean, I'm trying to view this from a Muggle point of view. If I were a sixteen-year-old Muggle girl and I was just barely told I was a witch—"

"You'd freak the hell out," I scoff. She stares at me.

"Yeah, I think I would."

"Don't get me wrong, though; I do like being here, learning magic and whatnot. It's probably the best thing that's ever happened in my sad pitiful life. But then there is that Parselmouth thing that's gotten annoying. McGonagall and others are trying to convince me that the gene couldn't have come from Draco, but my mother is a Muggle woman. How is that even possible?"

"Maybe they're missing a piece of his family tree. Maybe there is a lost ancestor that traces back to Salazar Slytherin," Kira suggests.

"Maybe. They're also comparing my case to Harry Potter's, about being transferred the ability, although I don't see any lightning-shaped scars on my forehead." She shakes her head. "But apparently the ministry has sent Aurors to search for a loose Dark wizard. He could possibly be a relative."

"I still think they should look further into the Malfoy family tree. Even the Black family tree," Kira says.

"Black?"

"The Black family is one of the largest wizarding families in the history of magic. Draco's mother—er, well, I suppose your grandmother—came from the Black family. I wouldn't be surprised if _somebody_ from that family descended from Slytherin. The Black family was always huge supporters of Slytherin, purity in magic blood, and Dark magic."

"And here they are questioning whether my mother could be at fault for giving me this gene, that she could have somehow have magic blood in her, even without knowing." I scoff and shake my head, utterly disgusted.

"What do your friends think?" asks Kira.

"About the Parselmouth thing?"

"About everything."

I pause before looking away shamefully. "They don't know."

"Your Gryffindor buddies _don't_ know?" she asks with surprise. I narrow my eyes at her. She throws her hands in the air to defend herself. "What? I'm honestly curious. I thought you would have told them something this grave, especially before telling me."

"Well _no_ I haven't. I wasn't planning on telling anybody, quite frankly," I admit.

"So … why did you tell me?" Kira asks gently. Once again, I can feel the redness flushing through my cheeks.

"Well, I … I don't … know …" She giggles as I stutter.

"I like that you feel comfortable to confide in me. I'll always listen," she says.

"I know."

"And just as I'm a friend to you, you're a friend to me, too. And, as a friend, I think you should tell your other friends about this too. They're close to you. You need to confide in them about this as well. They won't like being kept in the dark," she advises.

I sigh and slowly nod. "You're right. I will." She smiles and, gently, she turns my chin towards her so that she can look into my eyes. "Kira?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for listening."

"I won't tell anybody about your secret," she adds.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

And, after her soft words, we suddenly collide lips and we're kissing on the bench. I don't know how it happens, or why, but the kiss isn't long and I _do_ know that it was a _million_ times better than kissing Tatiana. And I do know that I absolutely love it.


	26. Chapter 26

**CHAPTER 26**

I'm nervous as I walk into Gryffindor Tower, trying to figure out how I'm going to confess everything I've hid from my friends. After all, what kind of friend hides secrets like the ones I've kept? I wish Kira were with me. She has the power to make me feel relaxed when I'm faced with situations like these, one of the main reasons why I want her to join me in my venture to the Chamber of Secrets.

When I told her about the voice I'd been hearing, and my planning to go down to the Chamber, she was surprised and wanted to talk me out of it, but after hearing how important it was to me to face this voice, she reluctantly agreed. She told me it would be dangerous, something I'd already known and prepared myself for, and then insisted that she come with me, since she felt it was her responsibility to look after my careless and stubborn arse, especially after we'd kissed. I didn't mind it, though, since I know Kira is clever and tactful and often times knows what she's doing. I figured she'd make a good attribute to my troupe.

I know I'm going to feel better once I tell them everything, but I'm afraid to approach it. Plus, it's a bit of a sensitive topic for me. To be honest, I'm going to be incredibly pissed if they don't see the reasoning as to why I've kept it a secret for so long. They've got to understand. They're my friends.

I approach the Fat Lady portrait, staring at her with a blank face. I'm still not prepared for how I'm going to tell my friends. I don't know how long I've stood here, but I guess it's long enough for the Fat Lady to question whether I'm going to say the password or continue to stare at her beautiful self. With an arched eyebrow and roll of my eyes, I snap at her the password and she swings her portrait open, muttering how rude and incompetent I am for a Gryffindor.

When the common room comes to view, I immediately find the Potter and Weasley clans sitting around the fireplace, along with Duncan and Rowena. I sigh unevenly, and when Rose spots me and waves, drawing the others' attention towards me as well, I smile weakly and return the wave.

"Come join us, Aiden," says Rowena.

"Oh! Tell us how your _'date'_ with Kira went," Rose suggests. Rowena's smile falters and she gives Rose a look, but everyone else seems to ignore it.

"You're back rather late," James says. "Must have been a good day." He gives me a smirk as he hangs his legs off of the arm of one of the scarlet armchairs.

I scratch the back of my head as I walk towards them. "Yeah, it was a good day."

"You don't sound very sure of that," mentions Duncan. "Did something happen?"

"It's not that," I assure. "I had a great time with Kira. She's great."

"Yes, we get that she's great," Rowena sighs.

"Did you kiss her?" asks Rose, giddily. I arch an eyebrow at her. Lily giggles and I blush.

"He did!" Lily exclaims. "What was it like? How long did it last?"

"You're starting to sound like Rose," Hugo says, rolling his eyes. "Stop asking so many questions and let the bloke breathe for crying out loud."

"Um," I start, unsure of how I want to describe my kiss. Then I'm unsure whether I want to share it with them at all. Kissing Kira was precious to me, and I feel like if I tell them what it was like, some of its preciousness will dissipate, and I don't want that.

"Guys, seriously," Albus sighs, rolling his eyes. "Why must you insist of him telling you everything? Can't a bloke keep some things to himself?"

This is why I appreciate Albus as a good friend.

"We weren't just intimate with each other," I add. "We talked a lot too."

"You were _intimate_?" Rose exclaims.

"Uh, yeah, a bit. Anyway, I was going to say—"

"You _must_ tell us what happened!" squeals Lily. I roll my eyes.

"The two of you, won't you just shut it? You can gossip about that later," sighs Duncan.

"I dunno, I'd like to hear some juicy details," James says with a smirk. I narrow my eyes at him.

"You know what? I think I'll just go up to my room. I'll talk about this later," I growl.

In addition to my friends being incredibly supportive, they're incredibly pushy and annoying too.

I stomp towards the staircase and head to the boys' dormitories. I've been asked too many questions and interrupted too many times today within the past ten minutes I've been back. All I want now is to relish the time I've spent with Kira in my memory, and to forget all the bad stuff I encountered as well.

I toss myself onto my bed, front first, and bury my face into my comforter. I groan as I think what a day I've had, especially with the secret of Draco coming loose. I'm not sorry I confided in Kira my secret, especially after we kissed, but now I had to tell my friends, and they weren't giving me the chance to. Something like this is really important for them to hear. I just wish they would let me talk for once instead of piling all of these questions about Kira and me as a couple. As much as I really like her, that's not exactly what's on the top of my thoughts at the moment.

There's a knock on the door, suddenly, and I grunt a come in. I slightly turn my head to see who's there and realize it's Duncan and Albus, and then I wonder why they even knocked in the first place. After all, this is their room too.

"Why did you guys knock?" I ask, sitting upright.

"We thought you might need privacy, so we wanted to get an okay from you to come in first," says Duncan sheepishly.

"Sorry about down there," says Albus. "My family's a bit …" He sighs.

"It's fine, I guess," I say with a shrug.

"So what _were_ you going to say down there?" asks Duncan.

My heart pounds in my chest. Finally I can tell them, although I wish I could tell everyone all at once. Duncan and Albus are two of my closer friends, though, but Rowena and Rose … and the others as well … I'll just feel bad if word gets out that I tell Duncan and Albus before them, and I'm sure they'll wonder why I didn't tell them first either.

Well, I've already told Kira anyway. Would it really hurt to tell them too? I trust Duncan and Albus; they're not exactly the type to blab their mouths off—unlike _some_ people.

I take a heavy breath. "It's a strong topic," I say slowly, and Duncan and Albus exchange looks, knitting their eyebrows together in puzzlement.

"What do you mean?" asks Duncan.

"I mean that I have a really big secret to tell you guys," I clarify, and then clear my throat. "I've been lying about myself."

"What? What are you talking about, Aiden?" Albus asks.

"What do you mean _lying about yourself_?" Duncan questions with emphasis.

"I am a half-blood," I start.

"We knew that, though," says Albus.

"You weren't supposed to, though," I say. "My father, he …" I sigh.

"It's okay mate. You can tell us," Duncan says gently. He half-smiles and shrugs, and Albus nods for me to continue.

"My father is Draco Malfoy," I say in one breath, and the two of them widen their eyes.

"What?" Albus asks in disbelief.

"He's Draco Malfoy," I repeat, sighing.

"But … if your father is Draco Malfoy, then that would mean that—" I cut Duncan off in midsentence.

"Scorpius Malfoy is my brother, yes."

"So … why did you hide that from us?" asks Duncan.

"Because I was supposed to. Draco was having an affair with my mother and accidentally got her pregnant. His family doesn't know about me."

"So, Scorpius doesn't know about you being related to him," Albus mentions, and I nod.

"Right."

"So, then the Parselmouth ability … It has to come from Draco. He's where you get your magic blood," says Duncan.

"That's what I keep saying, but everyone insists it wasn't from him," I tell him.

"Well, as far as the world knows, the Malfoys don't have any descendants from Salazar Slytherin, that's why no one thinks you get it from him," Albus explains.

"But what about the Blacks?" I ask him. "The Black family … Weren't they an entire clan of Slytherin worshippers?"

"Yes, at least most of them were," says Albus, "but as far as their concerned, they have no hint of Slytherin's blood. None of them descend from him."

"Well, he had to get it _somewhere_," says Duncan. "I mean, it only makes sense that it's from Draco. Isn't your mother a Muggle?"

"Yeah."

"There. See? It _has_ to be from his dad's side."

"But remember what he told us a while ago? That it could be a similar case to my dad's?" Albus reminds us.

"That's true, they were mentioning that," I remember.

"That's why the ministry has sent Aurors out searching for another Dark wizard. Maybe someone tried attacking Aiden when he was a kid."

"But the story," Duncan says, "the story of your father and his parents. The only reason he has Voldemort's powers was because your grandmother protected with her love, and she _died_ because of that."

"I know the story, Dun," Albus says with an eye roll.

"Did anyone die in your family that you know of?" asks Duncan.

"Uh … not really."

"It has to be someone from Draco's family. It _has_ to be," Duncan insists.

"There's no possible way, though," Albus argues. "The Malfoys are in no relation to Slytherin at all, not by blood."

"Well I couldn't have gotten it from my mum," I input.

"This is indeed a mystery. _You_, my friend, are a mystery," Albus sighs. I roll my eyes but I can't suppress my grin.

"I still think Draco has a part of this," Duncan mutters under his breath.

"So, this was the big news, huh?" says Albus and I nod.

"I didn't even tell you the worst part. I didn't even learn I was a love child until this summer. For all my life my mother told me my father was dead before I was born. And then, when Draco pops back into my life, he says I belong at this school, but the only reason he kept me from coming was so that I couldn't run into his other kid."

"Wow …" is all Albus can say.

"I've always thought the Malfoys were real prats, but bloody hell—Draco's taken it to a whole new level. I guess you have a really good reason for hating his and Scorpius' guts, huh?" Duncan says.

"I would actually hope you guys wouldn't say anything to the others," I add quickly. "I want to be the one that tells them this."

"Mate, why would we tell everyone else _your_ business?" Albus asks. I half-smile.

"Because they're your family," I answer.

"So what? This is a big thing for you. It's only right for you to tell them, not for us."

I grin. I knew I could trust them.

"There's actually something else I wanted to ask," I say. "I'd like to talk to your father, Al."

"Why?" he asks curiously.

"Because I want to go down into the Chamber of Secrets."

The two of them stare at me blankly.

"You what?" Duncan asks.

"Do you realize how dangerous that idea is? Especially to open it after its been closed for over twenty years? Aiden, no," Albus says bluntly.

"I'm going, guys," I tell them firmly. "I won't be going alone, but I have to face whomever keeps talking to me in Parseltongue. They're telling me to go down into the Chamber."

"Which would be the exact reason why you should _not_ follow it down there. Aiden, that is really dangerous," Duncan says.

"Not as dangerous if I take you guys with me," I tell them.

"You want us to go with you?" asks Albus, shocked.

"You two and Kira Pucey, plus Rowena and Rose. All of you guys are incredibly brilliant, and with your father's help and prior knowledge, we can get down there and defeat whatever is there."

"You know that there's a menace down there?" asks Duncan.

"If it's talking to me in Parseltongue and it's wanting to kill Muggle-borns, then yeah, I believe there is a menace."

"Shouldn't we tell a teacher?" asks Albus. "It's the smart thing to do."

"You're beginning to sound like Rowena," I say bluntly. "No, I don't think we should. That sounds stupid, yes, but it's asking for me, and the teacher won't let us go down there."

"If you get us killed, I'm coming back to kill you," Albus sighs.

"But … I'll already be dead too …" I say.

"You know what I mean."

"So, can you get me an appointment with your dad, Al?" I ask. He sighs heavily.

"Fine. Does this mean you'll be breaking the news to Rowena and Rose soon?"

"Very soon. At least after they stop asking me about my date with Kira," I groan.

"Oh, speaking of that—" Duncan teases, but I cut him off.

"Not now. I'm relishing the memory in my mind right now. Least to say, it was a very blissful date, other than my run-ins with Scorpius."

"Now I really feel bad for you," Duncan says.

"But overall it was great."

"Does Kira know everything too?" asks Albus.

"Yes. After I kissed her, I confided in her about everything."

"Well, that's something …" Duncan mutters.

"And she was fine with it?" Albus asks.

"Yes," I say with a nod.

"Well, I'll tell you one thing," Albus says. "You've got a big head if you think you're going to do all nice and fine in the Chamber, but at least you've got some clever wizards joining you." He smirks, which makes me grin. More relief has just lifted off of my shoulders since I've told my closest friends my story. They don't hate me for keeping it from them, but they understand completely. Makes things so much easier for me.

"So, should we discuss what's going to happen in the Chamber, then?" asks Albus. I narrow my eyebrows and firmly nod. So the hunt begins.


	27. Chapter 27

_**Author's Note:**_ Goodness gracious ... Well, I certainly wasn't planning on updating in a while, but, then again, it HAS been a while since I've updated. d: Can you believe I've been working on this story for nearly a year and a half? In all honesty, I probably wouldn't have updated if it wasn't for BrutieBoots' new lemon one-shot _Aiden in Wonderland_. My first dedication! x3 Gah! I feel so special. So, in all fairness, this chapter is dedicated to her in return for her fabulous story. (Go read, go read! It's really good! It made me grin. ^w^) Anyhoo, here is chapter 27. I need to finish the story soon, good God. dX Enjoy the chapter and please leave your comments. I really appreciate it! :3 -Michele

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**CHAPTER 27**

We manage to sneak out and bring Kira into the Gryffindor common room a couple of nights later, so we could meet with Al's father via fireplace. We were meeting him at eleven o'clock, and we wanted to make sure the common room was empty so we could talk in private. Of course, I wanted Kira with us, as she was going to be joining Albus, Duncan, and me on our journey to the Chamber of Secrets.

I hadn't managed to tell the others my secret yet. I knew I couldn't bring everyone down to the Chamber with me, and knowing Rose and Rowena, they'd probably try to talk me out of it, and when I wouldn't comply, they'd run and tell a teacher. They wouldn't really understand how important it was for me to face this voice. I needed answers, and I needed to stop its intent on killing Muggle-borns. Luckily for me, my companions were all from wizarding families, so I didn't have to worry about the voice offing any of them. But then there was me, the one _not_ from a wizarding family (with the exception of a distant wizard father). Maybe I was really leading my friends down to the Chamber to witness my death.

We sit in front of the fireplace, the lights in the common room dimming as everyone should be in bed now. Only a few embers remain lit in the hearth. Albus checks the odd-looking watch only used in the wizarding world.

"It's almost time," he says softly. "Dad should be here any minute now."

It just a few minutes time, the embers start burning furiously and suddenly Harry Potter's face has appeared in the newly birthed fire. My eyes widen and I fall back in shock. The guys snicker at me while Kira sighs and shakes her head, helping me up.

"Holy—" I mutter.

"Hey Dad," Albus says casually. Harry gives him a firm look.

"Al, what was it that you needed to speak to me about that required such a late timing? You should be in bed by now and … Hold on, do you have someone from Slytherin here? If anyone catches her out of bed—"

"Dad, we _know_," Albus groans. "Don't worry, we've got it under control."

"If you're using my cloak for unnecessary purposes …"

"This is incredibly necessary, Mr. Potter," Duncan reassures.

"So, what's the call for?" Harry asks. Albus, Duncan, and Kira turn to me. Harry knits his eyebrows together. "Aiden?"

"Well, it's about the Chamber of Secrets," I begin.

Harry turned his head both directions to make sure nobody was around him. "Do you plan on going in?" he asks. "All of you?"

We all nod our heads.

"The only problem is, we don't know how to take on whatever is down there. You've been there before. You've taken on a basilisk. What if there is another one that's talking to me, like we thought? Come with us, Harry," I insist.

He takes a deep breath, but it doesn't take much to persuade him to join. Albus has a better father than I could ever have.

"Alright. But we have to be careful. I could really lose my job for taking you down there. It's not exactly a place teachers want their students roaming," Harry says quietly.

The four of us grin.

"Thanks, Dad," Albus says.

"Now hurry and take your Slytherin friend back to her House before someone catches her out of bed," Harry tells us sternly. We nod our heads and stand up. When we look back down at the fireplace, his face is gone and the flame is extinguished.

* * *

The next night, Duncan, Albus, and I meet Kira at the Slytherin common room just after curfew. I don't know how the four of us manage to do it, but we always seem to fit under the invisibility cloak just fine. I guess it's just charmed to grow to whatever size is needed, since it is a magic cloak.

Harry has been at the school all day today, and it's easy for him to come because of my situation. He organized a meeting with me today in the library, and there we quietly discussed our preparations for tonight.

So at exactly ten thirty, we meet Harry in the girls' lavatory on the second-story. His lit wand is the only light provided when we enter. We shed the cloak and walk towards Harry. He's standing in front of a sink, and when I get closer, I realize there's something marked on the faucet.

I lean in and run my fingers over the marking. I can make out a curvy shape. I hold my lit wand next to the old silver faucet and my eyes widen. A snake is engraved into the faucet.

_"Locate what you represent,"_ I hear the voice echo in my mind. I finally understand what the voice had meant, that I represent a snake because I speak Parseltongue.

This sink is the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.

But how? I guess I need Harry to figure that out for me.

"Now, you all know how powerful basilisks are. If there really is one down there, keep your eyes on the ground, and be wary of puddles. There is lots of water in the Chamber, so the ground may have puddles that will reflect the basilisk's face. We don't want to have to send anyone to the Hospital Wing, since I cannot cure your petrified state.

"And Aiden," Harry says, turning to me, "whatever this voice says, don't believe a word. If this voice wants to kill Muggle-borns, then it is no friend of ours."

"Oh, _Harry_," squeals a voice from behind us. We turn around and notice the glowing transparent figure of Moaning Myrtle. "You're back! And … returning down _there_?" She began to weep. "Why would you go down _there_?"

"We're going to be fine, Myrtle," Harry sighs. "And keep your mouth _shut_ about this."

"Harry, Harry, still so naughty as he was in school," Myrtle sings. Harry rolls his eyes and turns back to us.

"Are you ready?" he asks. The four of us take deep breaths as we exchange glances.

"Yes," says Albus, answering for us all.

"Say _open_ in Parseltongue, Aiden," Harry instructs me. I'm not entirely sure how to do that, since I don't exactly have control over when I can speak it or not, but I give it a go anyway. Mostly I just think, _snake language, snake language,_ but in the end, it does the trick.

_"Open,"_ I say and I hear Myrtle squeak from behind.

Suddenly, the circle of sinks begins to separate and in between the gaps I can see a large gaping hole. The sink in front of us lowers, making an entryway for us.

"Remember, if you hear anything, keep your eyes on the ground," Harry warns one last time before jumping into the hole. Albus follows shortly after, and then Duncan, after giving me one last look.

I turn to Kira. "Are you ready?" I ask her. She nods, but then, unexpectedly, grabs hold of my hand tightly.

"If you are," she whispers. I smile gently and the two of us leap in together.

* * *

After the winding tunnel we slid down, we fall onto a patch of old broken bones. As we dust ourselves off from the debris, Harry leads us down another tunnel, constantly reminding us to keep our heads low. The tunnel is almost pitch dark, mind our lights, and Kira's hand remains tightly held by my own.

"Any voices yet, Aiden?" Harry calls to me.

"None," I reply, and I'm surprised. I would have thought that the voice would scold me for bringing people with me. Maybe this is what it wants?

We stop at a large circular serpent door. Harry beckons to me again. I mutter the same phrase in Parseltongue. The door unlocks and opens for us.

The next room is dank and spacious, a narrow walkway leading towards a large opening of the room. Large serpent statues with widened mouths crowd the walls on either side of us, and below is the bodies of water Harry mentioned before. Straight ahead is a large cement face, and Kira whispers to me that is Salazar Slytherin.

Each of us has our wands held out in front of us as we walk further towards the face. There is nothing around us, no sign of activity or a living being other than the five of us. Everything is silent.

_"You brought company, Aiden Malfoy,"_ the voice finally says. I turn around, wand pointed out.

"What is it, Aiden?" Harry asks quickly.

"The voice … It's here," I say.

We huddle together, our wands pointed out while are backs face each other.

_"You even brought _Harry Potter_!" _the voice exclaims.

"It mentioned you, Harry," I say.

"Don't believe anything," he says.

_"Where are you? Show yourself!"_ I manage to hiss in its language.

"What are you doing? Don't speak to it!" whispers Duncan frantically.

"No, no," Harry argues. "This is good. We can find out where it is."

_"But I'm right here," _the voice says chillingly. My heart skips a beat, and I genuinely feel a sliver of fear.

"It's here," I report back. "It says it's here."

"Where?" asks Harry.

_"Show yourself!" _ I command again.

There's a faint hissing behind us, towards the face of Slytherin that alarms us all.

"Shield your eyes!" demands Harry, and we all do as he says.

The hissing grows louder and louder, and I clutch Kira's hand even tighter. Suddenly, the hissing transitions into a sort of chuckle.

"Aiden Malfoy has returned to his home," says a different voice. It's very feminine and dark. And then everything pieces itself together.

_She … she … she …_

_ "Are you talking to _her_?" _I recall Myrtle asking the night I had met her (and, unfortunately, the night I had witnessed the horror between Goyle and Zabini).

_"_She_ isn't a _who_."_

_ She _is a _who_.

The voice I'd been hearing all year. It was _her_ voice.

And then I did exactly what Harry told me not to do.

I looked up.


	28. Chapter 28

_**Author's Note:**_ Second to the last chapter! Woo! FINALLY! I never thought I'd EVER finish this story! Haha, it's been put off for too long. I can't wait to get it done with. Although, I must say, I'm really proud of it. Probably one of the best-written Harry Potter fanfictions I've ever written. But anyway, sorry for the length. It's eight pages on a word document. O_O Yikes. d: But I hope you enjoy it all the same. I feel some of this chapter is a little corny, though. Poo. Oh well. Leave your comments please, and enjoy the chapter! Thank you! -Michele (:

* * *

**CHAPTER 28**

My eyes glance over the wet stone walkway and I notice that a snake is slithering around where the chuckling had come from. I quickly close my eyes again on impulse, only because Harry had mentioned to do so whenever we saw movement. Slowly—and foolishly—though, I open them again and my gaze passes the large green snake and lands on the hems of a floor-length black dress.

The woman hums when her chuckling comes to a halt. "How nice of you to come, Mr. Malfoy," she says, and my eyebrows narrow.

"For the last time, that is _not_ my name!" I shout at her, and my eyes inadvertently fly to her face.

I'm taken aback by when I see her face. She isn't ugly, but I guess it's just the fact that I'm finally putting a face to the voice I've been hearing. Strangely enough, she actually beautiful, which is odd to match her face to the voice because that voice sounded so sinister and dark. Not necessarily a voice to go with a pretty face. Her hair is long and wavy, dark as night and shimmering, and her eyes are almond-shaped and a bright green. Her skin is pale, but her lips are shapely and red. How could this woman want to murder anyone with a face like hers?

"Aiden, what are you doing?" Kira hisses at me. She's noticed I've looked up.

"It's okay," I whisper to her. Everyone slowly lifts their heads. The woman laughs.

"How marvelous! You must have thought I would've unleashed a basilisk, don't you?" she says. "No, _Harry Potter_ did away with my beloved a long time ago."

"I destroyed Salazar Slytherin's basilisk," Harry corrects. She narrows her eyes.

"I know who she is," Kira gasps. "That's Merida Maverill—Slytherin's _wife_."

"Slytherin had a _wife_?" I ask. Kira gave me a look.

"Of _course_ he did! How do you think Voldemort became an heir?" she says.

"Well, we all know you don't need to be _married_ to have children," I snap. Kira remains quiet after that.

"Such a bright child, the girl. No wonder she's in Slytherin House," Merida muses.

"What are you doing here now, Merida?" demands Harry, his wand pointing at her.

"You know, I'm quite glad you're here, Harry," she begins as she walks towards us. As a group, we all move back, especially when we notice her snake is following her.

"And why is that?" Harry demands again. Suddenly, Merida vanishes, but she reappears seconds later inches in front of Harry's face.

"To show you that you will _never_ get rid of the Dark arts," she whispers sinisterly.

Harry, glaring, points his wand at her chest and shouts, _"Stupefy!"_ However, the spell shoots right through her, and she remains unfazed.

"Are you a ghost?" asks Duncan. Merida grins.

"You may say so," she replies.

"If you're a ghost, then you can't hurt us," Albus pipes up.

"You idiots. She's not a ghost," Kira snaps. "Ghosts don't look like her."

"Tell me what I am, Slytherin child?" Merida muses.

"I-I don't know," she stammers. Harry suddenly pushes us all behind him.

"_I_ know what she is," he says. "She's a soul. And that snake is her Horcrux."

"A Horcrux?" I ask.

"It's considered one of the foulest of all Dark magic," Kira explains.

"To create a Horcrux, you need to take someone's life. It is a way to split your soul and place it into an object to protect it," Albus continues. "You could live forever if you split your soul enough."

"And the only way to kill that person is to destroy all of their Horcruxes," Harry says.

"But that's the trick, isn't it?" sneers Merida. "You need to _find_ that entire person's Horcruxes in order to destroy them. You don't know my snake is the only one."

"Well, we can find out," I snarl and raise my wand at the Horcrux. The others do the same and I see Merida's face contort.

"_No!"_ she roars, and her beautiful face is replaced with a nasty pointed face, resembling that of the classic witches Muggles read about. Her nose was sharp and her hair was stringy. The most noticeable change, however, was her eyes. They weren't the bright green almond-shaped orbs, but instead that were a glowing sickly yellow, and her pupils had become slits.

"If you kill her, you will never get the answers you seek, Aiden," she tells me, and even her voice has changed. "Secrets behind your family name."

"If you mention the Malfoys once again, I swear I'll—"

"_Not_ the Malfoys. Your _true_ family name—_Cooper_."

"What is she talking about, Aiden?" Duncan asks.

"Don't listen to her!" Harry snaps at me. "She won't tell you anything truthful!"

"How do you know?" I growl at Harry. "Do you know these secrets too? Is the ministry hiding information from me too?"

"Absolutely," Merida says as she rests her long, bony fingers on my shoulders. She whispers in my ear, "Everything you've ever wondered the ministry has hidden from you. Your family _and_ your friends have both betrayed you."

"Don't listen to her, Aiden!" Harry cries.

"There is a _reason_ why you are a Parselmouth," Merida continues. "After all, it is only a bloodline trait."

"But what about Harry Potter and Voldemort? And besides, the ministry is considering my case similar to his," I tell her.

"But they're _wrong_!" she exclaims. "They're _all wrong_. Your case isn't similar to Potter's at all." Once again, she whispers in my ear, and her words are so soft they tickle my ear. But the words themselves fill me with nothing but dread.

"_You are the true heir of Salazar Slytherin."_

My body is numb. I can't really seem to comprehend the news, either. What in the bloody hell does she _mean_ I am the _true_ _heir_ of Salazar Slytherin.

"Aiden!" Kira calls my name, and I blink. I realize I've been staring into space for a few moments. "Snap out of it Aiden!"

"You're wrong," I tell Merida, backing into my friends. But I don't stop walking. I continue until I break through them and back away some more. "You're wrong. How could I be the heir of Slytherin if I come from a Muggle family?"

"Because your Muggle family _isn't_ a Muggle family!" Merida snarls. "They've been hiding it from you, keeping secrets from you!"

"My mother knew _nothing_ of the wizarding world before she met my dad," I spit. "You're a filthy _liar_!" I point my wand at her.

"That won't do you any good, Malfoy," she sneers. I glare and walk towards her. Her snake is spitting hisses at me, mouth extended wide open to show off its long, poisonous fangs. I shift my wand towards the snake instead. I can see her twitch, but other than that, she isn't fazed.

"You don't know how to kill it anyway," she scoffs.

"But I do," snarls Harry and he shouts a spell that fills the room with a blinding green light. _"AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

The snake shrieks as it launches towards me, but before it falls limp, its already sunken its fangs into my arm. I gasp in pain and fall to my knees, but another shrieking has overpowered me.

I look up and notice Merida's skeletal body has now exploded into a cloud of black dust, which falls into the body of water beside us and disappears forever. The Chamber has fallen silent now, other than the footsteps of my friends and my shortened breathing.

"The venom is still pulsing through him," Kira says. "Pull out the fangs!"

Harry hesitantly does what she says and pulls the top of the large snake's head off of my arm. My vision is already blurring, but I can see two dark red holes where the fangs were.

"We need to get him to the Hospital Wing," Harry says quickly.

"I thought you didn't want to make a trip there because your job could be at risk," Albus reminds him.

"My job isn't my main priority right now," Harry snaps. He waves his wand over me before lifting me in his arms. I don't know what spell he used, but he's able to carry me with ease, which is pretty remarkable, considering I'm at least a couple inches taller than him.

We make it out of the Chamber and climb through the tunnels again, Albus leading the way to hold the light in front, but Harry directing him where to go. Their voices become fainter as my vision darkens. I can't feel my arm, either, and the rest of my body feels weightless. I can feel drops of sweat gathering at my hairline. I feel just about the crappiest I've ever felt in my life.

We're quiet almost the entire way before I choke out, "She was lying, right?" Harry knows this is directed to him, but he doesn't answer. "Harry, she was … lying, right?" I repeat, but after that, my world becomes black.

* * *

The next time I open my eyes, I have to shield them because the light is so bright. I try outstretching both my arms to sit up in bed, but I realize that one of them is wrapped in thick gauze and hanging in a sling. And then I remember the Chamber and Merida and the snake and—

"Aiden," says a soft voice from beside me. I turn and see Kira's charming face smiling gently at me. "You're awake."

Her dark hair is combed and pulled over one shoulder in a thin braid that almost ends in her lap. Her large hazel eyes are almost shielded by the thick straight fringe that crosses her forehead. Up close, I can see the dark jade that surrounds the pupils of her eyes. My free hand reaches up to touch her cheek, the buds of my fingers grazing her skin, crossing towards her cute button nose. Her face is clean and clear of the dust and grime from the sewers of the Chamber. I don't even know what day it is or how long it's been since we've been down there.

"You're here," I say softly. Her smile widens.

"Of course I'm here," she replies and holds my hand to her face. I impulsively comb a stray strand of hair that didn't quite make it into her braid behind her ear.

"How long have I been asleep?" I ask her.

"Just a day," she tells me. "Madam Pomfrey managed to get all of the poison out of your system quickly. She said we made it just in time, that if we would have waited longer, then it would have taken over your entire body and you probably wouldn't have made it." She combs my bangs out of my face. "But you did, thank goodness."

"Where are the others?" I ask.

"Just outside. Madam Pomfrey said only one person could stay in here with you until you were well enough for more company, everyone decided to let me stay with you," she explains.

"Why's that?" She blushes feverishly, and looked away out of shyness.

"Because they know how I feel about you," she whispers.

"And how do you feel about me?"

She looks back at me longingly before closing our distance for a strong and passionate kiss. The heat from her lips electrifies me in a way Tatiana could never make me feel. I almost feel just as energized as I would normally, and I forget that I'm actually trying to heal in the hospital rather than on a romantic date with Kira.

Someone clears their throat and we immediately part. Harry is smugly grinning at us with his arms crossed.

"Well, someone looks all better now," he jokes. Kira isn't the only one who's turning into a tomato.

"Feeling brilliant, as always," I say sheepishly.

"Kira, why don't you let the others know Aiden is well enough for visitors," Harry suggests. She nods and scurries away. Harry takes her seat beside my bed and I manage to sit myself up with my one arm.

"You were incredibly brave down there," he chuckles. "Call me cheesy, but reminded me of myself when I was your age."

"You took on a lot more than I did," I say with an eye roll. "Defeating the 'Dark Lord' and whatnot. I don't remind you of you."

"Aiden, there's a lot going on in your life, and, trust me, I wholeheartedly understand that. You deserve all the answers you're asking for."

"I already have some idea, and according to Merida, _you're_ the one who's been keeping them."

"Merida wanted to make you feel horrible because she's an evil spirit. Trust me when I tell you that this news was just _barely_ presented to us. We knew no more than you did. That's what we'd been searching for this entire time; the answer to your being a Parselmouth.

"When you get well, we will make sure you get all of the answers you want. No more secrets," Harry says, clapping a hand gently on my shoulder. He stands from his chair, but before he turns his back on me, I call out to him.

"Harry, are you going to lose your job? I'm assuming the ministry found out about our adventure," I say.

Harry grins, to my surprise. "I'm due for a hearing with the heads of the ministry about it, but luckily I'm on good terms with the Minister of Magic. Between him and me, I'm pretty sure I've got my job in the bag." He winks and I smile with relief, because even though I felt betrayed by him for keeping secrets from me, I'm still glad that he's keeping his job.

Harry turns to leave and in his place comes my large group of friends, not just Duncan and Albus. The entire gang is here: Rose, Hugo, Rowena, James, Lily, Duncan, Albus, and even Kira. Each one of my Gryffindor friends is buzzing with "How are you feeling?" and "Does it still hurt?" or from James, "Will you still be able to fly for the upcoming Quidditch game next Saturday?" But once Duncan quiets everyone, the concerns of why I kept _my_ secrets from them came.

"Why didn't you _tell_ us?" mopes Rose. "Don't you trust us too?"

"Of course I do," I tell her.

"I thought you would have told us everything, considering we're your friends," says Rowena.

"You guys are my friends, and I even _tried_ to tell you guys, but all you kept bothering me about was how my date with Kira went in Hogsmeade," I snap. Kira's eyebrows lift to her hairline and, once again, she blushes.

"You didn't even tell us you were going into the Chamber," says James. "Did you think we couldn't help you?"

"I couldn't tell you without having to explain everything," I say slightly impatiently. "And you wouldn't give me the chance to even tell you."

"Well, what _is_ everything that you need to tell us?" Lily asks gently. "We promise we won't interrupt you again." She shoots dirty looks at the others.

"Well, there's more to just the Chamber. You know I'm a Parselmouth and that we don't know where it came from. The truth is, I actually know my wizard father … and you know him too," I explain.

Everyone looks at me, puzzled.

"What do you mean?" asks Hugo.

I sigh heavily, and even roll my eyes at myself. I can't believe I'm telling the story again. However, I realize, though, that each time I do tell the story, I begin to accept Draco as my father. He'll never be part of my family and I'll never be a part of his, because he has his own, but I can accept him and actually forgive him for doing what he did. I'm also interested in spilling the news to that chum Scorpius. Boy, will he get a kick out of that …

"My father … he's actually Draco Malfoy. I was his, well, _unexpected_ child. He was having an affair with my mother and left her after he realized she was pregnant with me. The only reason I didn't come to Hogwarts like a normal student would is because he wanted to keep me from Scorpius, but he realized that he couldn't deny me my true heritage, so he begged Hogwarts to let me come. And now I'm here, and I'm caught in this mess …"

I shake my head when everyone is silent. "But I'm not sorry that I'm here. I'm really glad to have meet all of you, and you guys really have been the best of friends anyone could ever ask for. I never really had friends at my other schools, so you accepting me really means a lot.

"I am sorry that I didn't tell you about myself in the first place. I should have trusted you from the start."

I'm expecting to hear more concerns of _why_ I did it, but I don't. Instead, I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I look up. It's Duncan. He's grinning at me, and I grin sheepishly back, but when I look back at everyone, I notice that everyone's smiling at me too. I thought I would be bombarded with loads of questions, but I'm not. They're just silent and smiling, and I know that they've forgiven me.


	29. Chapter 29

_**Author's Note:**_ The final chapter of _Aiden and the Beast_ is here! FINALLY. I had a good time writing this, though, and I want to thank all of you who kept with the story through my long delays. Special thanks to BrutieBoots for creating Duncan Bell, Kira Pucey, Rowena Vane, Braxton Zabini, and Tatiana Higgs, and for especially letting me use Aiden for a different story (since I had created him for a story of hers). Anyway, leave your final comments and enjoy the chapter. Thank you, again, for your supporting reviews and for favoriting/alerting. (: -Michele

**_PS:_ **For more Aiden, visit **BrutieBoots' **page and read _Aiden in Wonderland_. It's a lemon one-shot taken place after this story. She'll appreciate your reviews just as much as I do. ^u^ Ciao! (:

* * *

**CHAPTER 29**

Today is Saturday, and while everyone is in Hogsmeade, I'm heading towards Headmistress McGonagall's office with Professor Lingley. I'm not sure why I'm headed towards her office, but Professor Lingley says it's highly important that I'm there. I'm guessing it has something to with the questions I have about my heritage.

We approach the gargoyle that stands in front of McGonagall's office. After Lingley announces the password, the gargoyle steps aside, revealing the winding staircase that lead up to the headmistress' office. We don't talk the entire way, but I've come to learn that Professor Lingley isn't necessarily the talking type. She can be more reclusive than even me, and I wonder if she'll ever get married—which is a shame since she is so beautiful.

Lingley opens the door and leads me inside. I immediately see a group of people, my mother and grandmother included in this gathering.

"Mum? Grandmother?" I ask, puzzled. Draco steps forward and smiles, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Okay, what's going on?"

"Aiden, sweetie," Mum says, reaching out for me. "We heard all about your adventure to this Chamber of Secrets."

"And about how you fought against Merida Maverill," Draco adds.

"Come sit, Mr. Cooper, and everything will be explained," Professor McGonagall says as she waves her hand to the empty chair next to my mother. Curious, I sit down with them, waiting to hear exactly what _everything_ is.

Mum places a hand on my knee and squeezes it, smiling at me. Looking at her face, I realize I can't be mad at her anymore for the whole Draco thing. Well, I guess I do have every right to, but it wouldn't make me happy, and it would make her feel inconsolably worse. Mum doesn't deserve that. With her beautiful face and kind personality, my mother does have a right to be happy, and I needed to forgive her for hiding my father from me.

I place a hand over hers and smile back at her. Her face brightens.

"Aiden, we are here today to set things straight. Your grandmother had come to us with some shocking news," McGonagall begins. Even Mum looks at her curiously. Apparently she doesn't know about this either. McGonagall nods her head at my grandmother. "Madam Cooper? Would you care to tell your grandson what you have told us?"

Grandmother Eracebeth turns to me. Mum resembles her very much. Grandmother has the same eyes and the same face structure. Her long white hair is braided and twisted into a bun with an ancient clip to keep it in place. Her face is withered with wrinkles.

"Aiden, my dear, and Celeste, darling, I have kept something horrible from the two of you. In no way have I meant to hurt you, but I did not have the heart to tell you of this story." She's stammering a lot, and her hands keep rubbing over each other.

"What is it, Mum?" asks my mother.

"When I became pregnant with you, Celeste, your grandmother, Pamela-Rose, told me the story about how she became pregnant with me," Grandmother begins. "One night, in the summer of 1942, she had taken a shortcut through a grove that was once commonly used by carriages to go in and out of town. The road wasn't used as commonly by then, for streets were being made for cars.

"My mother had just got finished shopping in Little Hangleton. She didn't have a vehicle, but she was comfortable walking alone anyway, the silly girl. It was that particular night that she thought she heard heavy footsteps following her, but whenever she turned around, no one was there.

"Suddenly, a great man with long wild hair and missing teeth jumped in front of her. He'd pulled out a stick and suddenly she was frozen, yet still conscious. He pulled her into a shack, slammed her on a table and began to tear all of her clothes."

Grandmother Eracebeth shivers and I can see her blue eyes are beginning to shine over with tears.

"My mother was raped by this man. He was such a horrid man, eyes looking in opposite directions and that stringy hair. Raped and beaten and raped and beaten. It was a miracle that she got away."

"How did she get away?" Draco asks, and I suddenly remember that he's been with us the entire time.

"She was able to knock him out with a kick to the head. She broke his fingers so he couldn't wield his wand and managed to run away. She ran to the police, but when they searched the woods for this man, they couldn't find him.

"Mother believed she was going mad until she became pregnant with me. But I remember Mother trying her hardest to love me, and even though I resembled nothing like this man, I felt she could never love me like any other child.

"And then, she found out I was different," Grandmother sighs heavily, her voice shaking. "That I was his daughter. I possessed the same qualities."

"W-what do you mean?" asks my mother.

"The man, Mother told me, he didn't speak English, but rather a strange hissing language. He was a Parselmouth." Grandmother looks at me and my eyebrows arch.

"An heir of Slytherin," I whisper.

"And then she caught _me_ speaking that language. And she caught me doing strange things with objects. Levitating them, making them disappear …"

Mum stands up and backs away. "Mum, what are you saying?" she asks fearfully. "Magic has never been in our family until Aiden." Grandmother bursts into tears.

"I'm so sorry, Celeste. I should have told you. I should have told both of you," she weeps.

"Mum, if you're … a …" Mum stammers.

"Witch," I whisper for her.

"Then … then …" My mother places her hands over her heart. "I'm …?"

"Yes, sweetheart. You are a witch too," Grandmother finishes for her.

My mother is in shock. I'm actually afraid she's going to have a heart attack. Professor Lingley and Draco rush to her and steady her.

"I … I don't understand," she says as tears stroll down her eyes.

"Aiden would have been born a wizard whether you had met Draco or not," Grandmother says. "My mother was a Muggle woman, and she met a wizard man of Dark magic. Morfin Gaunt, was his name. She promised me to hide my magic powers from you, for she thought maybe we could get rid of this abnormality. So I did, but when you were born, I noticed you possessed no magic powers, so I thought my mother was right. But Aiden was born, and it was obvious he would have magic abilities because he has _two_ magic parents."

No one isn't saying much now. My grandmother's story has pretty much answered all the questions I've ever had. I wasn't from a Muggle family at all, and, as it turned out, my Parseltongue abilities _did_ come from my mother.

"Morfin Gaunt," I finally say. "He is related to Slytherin?" McGonagall nods.

"The Gaunts were one of Slytherin's strongest descendants. To keep their pureblood heritage, it was common of them to inbreed. Slytherin believed the same," she explains.

"The woman you met in the Chamber," Professor Lingley says, "Merida Maverill? Wasn't it odd that she was the wife of Slytherin, yet a Parselmouth as well?"

"She was related to him in some way too?" I ask.

"Yes. Merida and Slytherin were cousins."

I shudder. Well, that's disturbing.

McGonagall stands and takes my mother from the arms of Lingley and Draco. "Miss Cooper, perhaps a conversation of understanding is in order. You've gone through quite an ordeal with the uncovering of your family's history."

"I'm so sorry, Celeste," Grandmother says to her once more.

"Madam Cooper, if you would like to join us, that would be exceptional, as well as you, Mr. Cooper," McGonagall suggests. Grandmother stands up and joins them, taking Mum's hands into her own. Mum is saying anything to her. She's more in shock than anyone here, even me. Mum just found out she's a witch—a Squib, at that—after thirty-eight years of being held in the dark. That is loads worse than my situation. I would have rather waited sixteen rather than almost forty years.

I shake my head in refusal at McGonagall's offer.

"I think I'll pass," I say. She nods.

"Very well. Professor Lingley, would you escort Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Cooper outside, please, then?"

We walk out and Draco and I part from Professor Lingley, who returns to McGonagall's office to help my mother cope with this news. Draco and I are left alone once more and I can feel the awkward tension between us.

"That was certainly unexpected," Draco sighs, scratching his head. I stuff my hands in my pockets.

"Bet you didn't realize you were hooking up with a witch rather than a Muggle woman," I retort. Draco's face falls.

"After everything you've been through, I will never be able to stop saying how sorry I truly am for staying out of your life. It was so cowardly and irresponsible of me to do such a thing."

I shake my head. "Yeah, it was. But how about I forgive and you stop saying you're sorry, because, quite frankly, it's getting a bit annoying."

Draco looks at me strangely. "A-are you serious?" he asks, baffled.

"Yeah."

Draco looks like he wants to either pull me into a giant hug and do nothing at the same time. I guess he's not much of an affection guy, which doesn't bother me. But he does pull me into a one-armed hug to his side, which surprisingly feels kind of good.

Suddenly, a voice interrupts our moment.

"Father?" asks Scorpius from the end of the hall.

"Oh bugger," I mutter.

Scorpius is storming towards us, completely in shock about his father hugging me.

"Father, do you _know_ him?" he snaps. He glares at me. "What are you doing with my father, Cooper?"

"Son, there's something we really need to talk about," Draco says as he lets go of me.

"What's going on?" demands Scorpius. He's terribly confused and lost. I always imagined this day to be the greatest day of my life, laughing manically at Malfoy finding out that his father has another son and that he isn't the only one, that his family isn't so perfect after all. But when I see his face, I can't bring myself to be even remotely happy. I'm scared for him, sad for him, and I pity him. No kid deserves to have their parents keep large secrets from them, and I'm learning that _a _lot today.

Draco excuses himself from me and he leads Scorpius away, Scorpius shouting the entire way about what he's doing with me. A rock falls on my stomach. He isn't going to like the outcome, and neither is his mother. I'm also scared for Draco himself. I guess, if anything, he's welcome at my house. Well, maybe.

* * *

I pass my luggage case and broom to the people loading the train and hold Bursty's cage close to my chest. Albus, Duncan, Rose, and Rowena are walking a few feet in front of me, chatting animatedly. Duncan notices I'm behind and slows so I can catch up with him.

"Why so quiet?" he asks. "Thinking about how ridiculously pathetic your first year at Hogwarts was?" He chuckles and nudges me. I arch an eyebrow and roll my eyes.

"_Pathetic_ is an understatement," I reply. And then the both of us laugh. We know fully well my first year was anything _but_ pathetic. Chaotic and agonizing, maybe, but not pathetic.

Duncan slings an arm around my shoulder. "You cope well, Cooper. After the entire mess you went through, I'd say you're alright." I roll my eyes and shake his arm off.

"Gee, thanks," I say sarcastically with a hint of a grin.

Suddenly, I feel a presence on my other side and notice Kira has just appeared next to me. Her sparkling hazel eyes glare up at me.

"Thanks for waiting," she sneers.

"I would have saved you a seat," I say nonchalantly. She rolls her eyes.

"Considering your family issues, maybe you'd like to spend summer at my house. We can concentrate on strictly Quidditch. No drama, no nothing," she says.

"Of course Quidditch … Her father's only a professional Quidditch player," Duncan says. "You mind inviting me too? After all, James _did_ appoint me the new Gryffindor captain for next term."

"_You're_ the new captain?" asks Kira skeptically. "Oh good. Slytherin will win the Cup for sure."

"That's what you think, Pucey," scoffs Duncan.

"Well, as long as _I'm_ captain for Slytherin, we're not losing a single match."

"Malfoy appointed _you_ captain? Bloody hell. Aiden, your loyalty lies with your team, so this relationship you have, it's got to end," Duncan says, pointing at the two of us.

I look at Kira and shrug. "He's right. I can't date _Slytherin's_ Quidditch captain," I say. She gives me a hard stare. "Or … maybe I can," I add quickly.

We make it onto the train, combing through compartments to see what's empty. I notice Tatiana and Giselle sitting together, along with Braxton Zabini. Giselle is practically in Braxton's lap, while Tatiana has another Slytherin boy on her arm, rubbing her hand down his chest.

She looks up at notices Kira and me holding hands. Her look tells us that she's better than us anyway, but I know the truth to those seductive eyes. It's pathetic.

Scorpius is absent from that group, but I guess he's spending the entire ride home by himself, coping with his father's news. Finally I see him, and, just as I predicted, he's sitting alone. He catches my gaze, and he glares momentarily before lifting it. I know his look, and he knows mine. We both exchange expressions of pity before I drag Kira away.

Finally settling into a compartment, I set Bursty on the seat next to the window, and Kira sits beside me. Duncan and Albus join us, and I guess we've lost Rowena and Rose along the way.

"They'll be back," Albus waves them off.

"So, what're your plans, for summer, Al?" ask Duncan.

"Well, not training for Quidditch captain, that's for sure," he mutters. Duncan smirks. "I can't believe James didn't give the position to me! His own _brother_!"

"The practice will be good anyway," Duncan says. "Pucey here has been promoted to Slytherin's captain." Kira grins.

"Blimey! What are you doing here, then?" exclaims Albus. "We need to discuss Quidditch strategies right away. Can't be talking about this in front of _Slytherin_."

"Oh please. Whatever petty strategies you come up with, Slytherin will defeat them easily."

"Kira _is_ brilliant, you know," I mention. Kira grins at me.

"And this is why you're my boyfriend," she states proudly. I smile and hold her close to me, kissing the top of her head.

"Oh come on. Let's leave the romance out of this," groans Albus. The four of us burst into laughter as the train takes off sending me home with the best friends I could ever ask for.


End file.
